


Sacrifice

by cywscross



Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Alternate Universe, Arcobaleno!Tsuna, Language, M/M, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-04-08
Updated: 2013-10-31
Packaged: 2017-12-07 21:52:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 24,809
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/753491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cywscross/pseuds/cywscross
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sometimes, Tsuna imagines Reborn finding out, and he wonders whether or not his tutor-turned-advisor will ever forgive him for it. He doesn't regret doing it, and he’d do the same thing again a hundred times over if need be, but still – Reborn’s never been the forgiving type. But of course, as all secrets do, his eventually comes to light, and Tsuna doesn't have to imagine anymore.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own anything from Katekyo Hitman Reborn.
> 
> Okay, so I’m going to try my hand at slash. This will be a TsunaxReborn fic, though the focus won’t be mainly on romance. You’ve been warned; don’t like, don’t read. I really don’t want to hear anyone complaining about how slash ruins everything, etc.

                It was Yuni’s fault, really.

 

In all the years Tsuna had known her, he had never quite figured out whether she was the kindest, most compassionate, selfless girl to ever exist in the history of mankind, or the most potentially ruthless and manipulative person he’d ever met, Mukuro, Xanxus, Kyouya, and Byakuran included.

 

                For one, Tsuna had never understood her decision to leave her entire Famiglia behind when they had been fighting in the future.  Oh, he had accepted it at the time, seen her resolve to condemn her men and save the world, and had extended his hand in response when he had seen her desperation, but he hadn't truly understood.  Maybe it was because he simply didn't have that kind of... strength to discard those around him for the good of the world, for the _greater good_.  He had thought about it for years and his answer still hadn't changed – if it came down to it, he’d save his friends and family first, his Famiglia second, and the rest of the world last.

 

                Sometimes, that selfishness made him kind of hate himself.

 

                In the end though, that didn't matter.  Yuni’s knowing eyes always made a hidden part of him wary, especially after that fateful day – six years after the Arcobaleno curse had been broken, a year after he had become the youngest mafia boss in underworld history, with the exception of Yuni from the alternate future who didn't count anymore – when Aria had asked him to babysit her daughter and said daughter had blindsided him in the middle of the ice-cream parlour they had been in with-

 

                _“I’m sorry, Tsuna-san.  The Sky Pacifier cannot be contained.  For the most part, the jars Talbot-san made, as well as Bermuda’s Flame of Night are enough to replace the Arcobaleno Pacifiers, but there is simply no equivalent for the Sky Pacifier.  It needs a human sacrifice, and- and even before Talbot-san appeared with the special jars, Kawahira-san already chose you as the next Sky Arcobaleno.”_

 

                At twenty-one years of age, Tsuna had sat across from an eighteen-year-old Yuni, courtesy of the Ten-Year Bazooka that Lambo had brought with them on their outing, and he had seen the end of his life when she had opened one hand and revealed the Sky Pacifier sitting innocently on her palm.

 

                She had explained, with a regretful, sorrowful smile on her face, that she and Kawahira had discussed the options and had agreed that there were only two choices: one – reactivate the curse and return all the Pacifiers to each of the freed Arcobaleno until they weakened and another set would be chosen, or two – sacrifice only one person each generation for the position of the Sky Arcobaleno.

 

                _“We’ve decided that it will be your choice, Tsuna-san,”_ Yuni had said earnestly.

 

                To Tsuna, it hadn't been a choice at all, and judging by her sympathetic gaze, Yuni had known that as well as he had.

 

                Five minutes later, the Sky Pacifier had been settled around his neck, deceptively light even as an invisible weight sunk deep into what felt like his very soul.

 

                It had occurred to him, briefly, once his time’s Yuni was back and Lambo and I-Pin had been called back over from their game of catch in the park across the street, that he could've brought up the possibility of the younger Yuni or even Aria taking back the Sky Pacifier.

 

                But one look at the carefree eight-year-old who was no longer burdened by visions of the future, and a mother who would, with a bit of luck, live a good long life had made Tsuna glance away in shame.

 

                How could he even _consider_ such a thing?

 

                Yuni was finally growing up without a curse hanging over her head, had even found a father figure in Gamma.  Besides, Kawahira had already told him that Tsuna would have been the next ideal Sky Arcobaleno, even more so than Yuni.  Tsuna had no right to wish something like the Arcobaleno curse on the girl, especially with the particular abilities that the Sky Pacifier entailed.

 

                _“You should remember, Tsuna-san, all the things that come with being the Sky Arcobaleno.  You will not be stuck in an infant body, but your life span will be been significantly shortened.  And though the last set of Arcobaleno have all been freed, they were still Pacifier bearers once.  Should any or all of them ever fall, you would have the power to bring them back.  But in exchange, your life, like all Sky Arcobaleno before you, would be forfeit should you decide this ability to be necessary._

_“...I am so very sorry, Tsuna-san.”_

 

Like he’d said – it was Yuni’s fault, really.

 

Because in the end, he hadn't done it for the Earth’s ‘protectors’ or the good of humanity or even world balance.  He had done it because the ex-Arcobaleno were his friends, part of his family, _Yuni_ was his friend and little sister despite his misgivings, and he’d quite literally do anything to protect his friends and family.

 

                No doubt, Yuni had known that, so she had laid out the facts for Tsuna’s ears alone.

 

As if Tsuna could ever say no.

 

**{1}**

 

**[Four Years Later]**

 

                “Oi, Tsuna.”

 

                Tsuna didn't so much as twitch from his sprawled position on the couch, one arm thrown over his eyes to block the light.  “I’m finished all my paperwork, Reborn.  You can check it.”

 

                He frowned when no immediate retort or gunshot came, but he only looked up when the end of the couch at his feet dipped with Reborn’s weight.

 

                “Reborn?”  He peered at the fedora-wearing adult, long legs crossed with lazy elegance as dark eyes surveyed Tsuna in return.

 

                The ex-Arcobaleno had finally stopped growing at random speeds, and they had caught up to Lal at last a year ago.  Now all of them were back in their early thirties or late twenties, the age they had been when they had first taken on the curse.  It still came as a novelty to see Colonello and Lal only five years older than he was, or Skull three years older.

 

                “You’re not coming down with something, are you?”  Reborn was saying, eyeing him critically.  “The Vongola Boss shouldn't get sick.”

 

                Tsuna rolled his eyes and let his head fall back against the arm rest once more.  “I may be the Vongola Boss but that doesn't change the fact that I'm still human.  I can come down with the flu just as much as anyone else.”

 

                To be honest though, Tsuna knew he wasn't coming down with anything.  Glimpses of the future had plagued his dreams the past few nights and he hadn't been able to sleep properly.  He could see peace for the future of Vongola, the smiling faces of his Famiglia and their prosperity, but there was also a sense of dread underlying it all.  The feeling didn't go away when he was awake, and occasional bouts of lethargy told him that his time was swiftly running out.

 

                How much longer would he have?  A year?  Two on the outside?

 

                And he still hadn't told anyone.  That first year after he had received the Pacifier had been one of the hardest in his life.  He had been afraid of people finding out and equally terrified of coping with the curse on his own.  However, in the end, he had chosen the latter.

 

The main reason had been because it wasn't as if anyone could do anything about it, and he didn't want his friends working themselves to death trying to find a cure that wasn't there.

 

The other reason... well, Tsuna had never claimed to be a saint.  He was a selfish person through and through, and a part of him was still a coward, still Dame-Tsuna.  He didn't want to face his Family’s reactions when they eventually found out, and putting it off day after day only made it harder.  He didn't want to see their faces cloud with sympathy like Yuni, or grieve for him even when he was still alive.

 

                Of course, it wasn't possible to keep the curse a secret entirely.  Kawahira knew, obviously, but the man had thankfully stayed away, and Talbot had appeared on his doorstep one day and asked for a private audience with him.  They had argued for three hours straight before Tsuna had compromised with an agreement that Talbot could look for yet another alternate method but the project wasn't to take up his life.

 

                That had been four years ago and the craftsman still hadn't found a solution.  He had managed to work the jars so that the Sky Pacifier wouldn't have to be passed on to someone else immediately upon Tsuna’s passing, allowing a hundred years, give or take, in between before someone new would have to be chosen again.

 

But the last time Tsuna had visited the man five months ago, he hadn't needed his intuition or his Pacifier’s power to realize that even Talbot was losing hope for a permanent remedy.  The old man got points for sheer tenacity though.  _Tsuna_ had lost hope the day future Yuni had come to him with his impending death in hand.

 

                The last person who knew had been both expected and unexpected.  Vongola was on relatively okayish terms with the Vindice now though so, while uncommon, it wasn't completely shocking to see one of them swinging by the Vongola mansion, either for business or the annual Christmas party.

 

                Not to mention Bermuda was now responsible for protecting the Pacifiers’ Flames of the Sky.  Tsuna would’ve been surprised if the Vindice Boss hadn't come to seek him out.

 

                Finding him had been one thing, ensuring that nobody eavesdropped was quite another.  None of Tsuna’s Guardians or Family members trusted Bermuda further than they could kick him, and Reborn always, always kept his gun in sight whenever the Vindice Boss was within ten feet of Tsuna.

 

                In Tsuna’s opinion, it was ridiculous how paranoid his former tutor was when it came to him and Bermuda.  Reborn didn't do that for Mukuro or Xanxus or even Byakuran.

 

                Still, Tsuna had eventually managed to get them into a secure room, which they had then ended up staying in for the next eight hours.  To say that Bermuda’s reaction was explosive would be an understatement of massive proportions.  The Vindice Boss had wanted to hunt down Kawahira again and start another war, and when Tsuna had objected, Bermuda had lashed out at him.

 

                Accusations had been hurled, punches had been thrown, and by the time they had finished, the walls had looked like charcoal.  Luckily, the place had also been soundproofed to the nth degree – nobody had come running.

 

                Their semi-altercation had ended with Bermuda grudgingly backing down when Tsuna had pointed out that, for the most part, the Arcobaleno curse had been stopped.  It was just the occasional Sky Arcobaleno who would live a little less than everyone else.  There would be no infant body, no extended lifespan until Kawahira decided it was time to cut it short, and Tsuna would die fairly normally, if a bit early.

 

                Bermuda certainly hadn't been happy so Tsuna supposed it wasn't so bad that the Vindice Boss considered himself indebted to Tsuna after the whole Representative Battles debacle had gone down.  It had come in handy when Bermuda had threatened to tell Reborn of all people.  It was no secret that the former had no particular liking for the hitman and the latter downright loathed the Vindice Boss.  Tsuna would’ve been touched if it hadn't also meant revealing his secret to the very last person he wanted finding out.

 

                Reborn was not a forgiving person; never had been, and never would be.  And since it was the Arcobaleno curse in question, coupled with the fact that Tsuna was the one paying for it after he had worked so hard to free Reborn from the same thing, he wouldn’t be surprised if the hitman considered the entire issue a betrayal on Tsuna’s part.  Not to mention he knew Reborn well enough to realize that there would be guilt entering the equation when his former tutor found out.

 

                But it was _Reborn_ , and the man had been such a large part of Tsuna’s life for what seemed like forever that not protecting him felt like a betrayal in and of itself.  He knew his former tutor better than anyone else at this point in time, cared about him just as much as he did his Guardians and closest Family members, and Tsuna would never be able to forget the utter happiness on Reborn’s face when the Arcobaleno curse had been broken for what they had all believed to be for good.  Burdening Reborn with even a single aspect of that curse ever again was something Tsuna never wanted to do.

 

So Tsuna would hold it off for as long as he could.  He wanted his Family happy, and if that meant indirectly shielding them from the curse, then so be it.

 

                Sometimes, Tsuna thought that maybe Byakuran might know as well, but it would be just like that marshmallow-loving fox to keep it to himself and mock Tsuna about it when it came out.  They were on friendly terms now, had been for years, but that didn't mean Byakuran had completely changed his ways.

 

                Tsuna blinked at his ceiling and zeroed back in to present time when he realized that Reborn was talking.

 

                “-Kuznetsov Famiglia has agreed to the alliance we offered,” The hitman was saying.  “Ryohei flew out this morning to finalize things.  I guess all the help you lent them in those skirmishes paid off.”

 

                Tsuna grinned, rising to a sitting position.  “Wow, Reborn, that was practically a compliment!  I'm flattered.”

 

                Reborn snorted, a glint of good humour entering his eyes.  “Don't get a big head, Dame-Tsuna.  I almost miss the years when you wouldn't dream of back-talking.”

 

                Tsuna just snickered, and then stretched languidly before getting up.  He had quickly found out that wearing the Pacifier around his neck wasn't the best idea so it usually stayed inside whatever pocket he had at the time.  At the moment, the Pacifier rested like lead against his leg.  The thing was always warm with Sky flames but it never seemed anything but cold when Tsuna held it.

 

                He scrubbed a hand through his hair.  Not even the good news of another Famiglia accepting an alliance with Vongola could chase away his exhaustion.  He wanted to sleep.

 

                “Hayato’s been considering the need to call Shamal,” Reborn commented offhandedly from behind him.  “You've missed five dinners in the past two weeks.  You’re worrying your friends, Tsuna.”

 

                Tsuna forced his posture to remain undisturbed, slipping his hands into his pockets before turning around to face his former tutor with a puzzled look.  He had been taught by the best, after all.

 

                “I've just been busy, Reborn.  Vongola’s never been stronger, you know, and I’m almost finished cleaning out all the bad business we’ve been buried under.  Seriously, all the drug cartels had to go, and I _just_ finished getting rid of all the traces a month ago.  And have I told you about one of our branches over in Germany?  I found out recently that they’re absolutely filled with corrupt idiots.  I mean the third-in-command was an embezzler through and through.  The _medical officer_ posted there was a drug addict.  The second-in-command was a drug dealer, _dealing to_ the medical officer.  And the guy _in command_ was an embezzler, drug dealer, _and_ drug addict.  Just- It’s mind-boggling how they were even functioning.”

 

                He paused and found Reborn smirking at him.  “Haha, very funny, you weren’t the one who had to deal with all the paperwork that came with it.  That branch has been shut down as of... two hours ago.”

 

                Reborn shook his head.  “Who did you send to handle it?”

 

                Tsuna smiled grimly.  “I asked Kyouya.  He volunteered after I showed him their rap sheet.  Mukuro’s going with him.”

 

                Another smirk crossed Reborn’s face as he tilted down his fedora.  “I almost feel sorry for the morons.  But you do realize that sending those two on a mission together is just asking for damage costs to rise, right?”

 

                Tsuna threw up his hands.  “Yes, but I'm aiming to put the fear of- well, the fear of two devils in them.  Better than sending the Varia anyway.  Xanxus doesn't like dealing with small-fry and he’d kill everyone and destroy everything because he’d be pissed off.  Again.”

 

                “That last time was because you suggested therapy to him, Tsuna,” Reborn chuckled.  “You had it coming.”

 

                Tsuna grinned in remembrance.  Xanxus hadn't been very happy with him when Tsuna had brought up anger management sessions.  The man had only stopped shooting at him after Tsuna had promised to put in new hot tubs in the Varia mansion as an apology.

 

                Then again, that might’ve been Xanxus’ goal all along.

 

                Tsuna shifted, and the world suddenly shifted as well.  He stilled.

 

                Darkness.  Cries.  Sobs.  The darkness lifted just enough to reveal a lone coffin.  The Vongola emblem blazed gold against the black box.

 

                Tsuna blinked and his vision cleared.  The endless blue sky outside his window stared back at him instead.

 

                He closed his eyes.  The first time images like that had appeared in the middle of the day, he had fallen over, collapsing in a heap on the ground.  Luckily, he’d been alone in his bedroom at the time.

 

                That hadn't been the first time he had caught a glimpse of his own death either.  Or, technically, signs of his imminent death.

 

                Idly, he wondered if his body would still be here after he passed, or if he’d disappear just like Yuni had in the alternate future when she had revived the other Arcobaleno.

 

                He almost jumped out of his skin when a calloused hand pressed against his forehead.  His eyes flew open and he found an uncharacteristically frowning Reborn standing in front of him, frame slightly hunched so that he was level with Tsuna.

 

                “I think I’ll give that go-ahead to Hayato,” Reborn muttered, straightening again when Tsuna took a startled step back.  “You've been rather distracted lately too.”

 

                Tsuna huffed in protest.  “I’m fine, Reborn!  I just need to catch up on some sleep.  You're getting all mother-hen-ish in your old age.”

 

                Reborn twitched, and then whacked him upside the head.  “I’m thirty-one, Dame-Tsuna, and one, mother-hen-ish isn’t a word.  Two, one of the Vongola Boss’ responsibilities is to look after his own health, and three...”

 

                Tsuna hastily began backing away as Leon, who, along with his fellow animals, had stayed even after the curse had been broken, changed into a gun in Reborn’s hand.

 

                Reborn’s eyes flashed ominously.  “Three, I was unfortunate enough to get stuck babysitting an immature brat like you.  Luckily, I always get compensation when you call me _old_.”

 

                Tsuna squeaked and fled his office just as a rubber bullet hit the wall above his head.  He flew down the hall, and, now a regular occurrence, his employees cleared the way for him, all wearing fondly exasperated smiles as Reborn stalked after him, gun raised in vengeance.

 

                _It would be,_ Tsuna thought sardonically as he rounded a corner.  _Ridiculously easy if Reborn ever tried to assassinate me.  No one would try to stop him, and it won’t be because he’s the greatest hitman in the world either._

 

                He didn't actually feel like running, but at least it got Reborn off his case about seeing Shamal.

 

                Besides, their chases always made him feel somewhat nostalgic.

 

**{1}**

 

                “For the last time, I am _fine_ ,” Tsuna sighed, slumped on the examination table that Shamal had ordered him onto.  Apparently, Reborn hadn't been sufficiently sidetracked.

 

                “Vongola, you have no idea how fine I want you to be too,” The doctor muttered distractedly as he flipped through the results of Tsuna’s checkup.  “Then I wouldn't have to treat you and we’d both be a lot happier.  Sadly, what Reborn wants, Reborn gets.  He wants you to get a checkup from yours truly so you’re getting a checkup from yours truly.  Suck it up.”

 

                Tsuna scowled at him.  Wasn't being the boss supposed to mean something around here?

 

                He heaved another sigh and flopped back on the table.  The padding was quite nice actually.

 

                “You're not going to find anything,” He said out loud.  “I'm as healthy as a horse.”

 

                “You know, I've never understood that saying,” Shamal remarked as he made his way over.  “What if the horse is sick?”

 

                The doctor closed the file in his hands and leaned over him.  “As it is, you're healthy enough, though your blood pressure’s higher than I’d like it to be.”

 

                Tsuna waved his hand in the general direction of the rest of the mansion.  Even from the medical wing, they could hear the distant sounds of dynamite going off and people shouting at each other at the top of their lungs.  “You’re _surprised_?”

 

                Shamal grunted.  “Fair enough.  Any dizziness lately?  Headaches?  Difficulty sleeping?  Reborn mentioned that you’ve been feeling more tired than usual.”

 

                Tsuna pinched the bridge of his nose.  “Yes to all three.  Shamal, I don’t need a doctor or a degree to know that I'm stressed.  I also know that I need more sleep and I probably need to eat more regularly as well.  So, is this examination really necessary?”

 

                Shamal crossed his arms.  “Even after all these years, you still don’t get it, do you?  You’re important now, Vongola.  Have been for a while now, in case you've missed that memo.  You’re the boss of one of the strongest mafia syndicates in the world, one that’s looking less and less like a mafia syndicate by the day.  You've got police agencies knocking on your door looking for mutual ceasefires and tentative proposals for _working together_.  What kind of criminal organization works with law enforcement?”

 

                Tsuna smiled.  “That was always my goal, Shamal, you know that.  You've known me for over a decade now, since I was a kid.  God, it’s been a long time.  You know I've never wanted to be a mafia boss, but that was all but unavoidable.  So I decided that if I couldn't change what I was going to be, then I’d change what Vongola was going to be.  And I have.  I'm doing it right now.  Vongola started as a vigilante group; I'm just bringing it back to its former glory, that’s all.”

 

                Shamal stared at him for a long, calculating minute, silent and assessing, before he uncrossed his arms, tossed Tsuna’s file onto a nearby desk, and dug out a crumpled piece of paper from his coat pocket.

 

                It took Tsuna a moment to recognize the latest of twenty letters he had sent over the years to Shamal, all job offers to become Vongola’s head doctor.  Each one had been ignored; thrown away or returned to Tsuna without being opened at all.  While Shamal drifted semi-frequently in and out of the mansion, he only ever treated Tsuna and his closest Family members, and that was only when it was either an emergency or a request from Reborn and, occasionally, Tsuna himself.  All other times, Shamal stuck with women or continued his career as a solo assassin.

 

                Slowly, Tsuna looked up to meet the doctor’s unusually sharp gaze.  He hadn't expected Shamal to keep the one he had sent over six months ago.

 

                Deliberately, the doctor pulled out a pen, smoothed out the sheet of paper against the desk, and without further ado, signed his name at the bottom in a mix of his signature neat handwriting and chicken scratch.  Without a word, he capped the pen and thrust the contract in Tsuna’s direction.

 

                Tsuna stared down at the signature, feeling slightly dazed.  “...I’ve nagged you to take this position for _five years_ and when you finally agree, you do it in the middle of my appointment?”

 

                “Did you want to wait for some thunder and lightning?”  Shamal enquired dryly.  “I'm sure that Lambo and Irie could throw in some special effects.”

 

                Tsuna glanced up, bewildered.  “But why now?  It’s completely out of the blue.  Did you tell Hayato?  He didn't tell me.”

 

                “You’re the one who’ll be paying me,” Shamal pointed out.  “And I didn't make up my mind until just now.”

 

                Tsuna narrowed his eyes.  “And you’ll treat everyone?  Men and women?”

 

                “So long as it’s not for things like bruises and papercuts,” Shamal nodded at the contract.  “Don't worry, Vongola, I have that thing memorized backwards by now.  I signed it; I’ll follow the terms.”

 

                Tsuna broke out into a helplessly wide grin, earning an eye-roll and an amused look from Shamal.

 

                Tsuna didn't care.  He tucked the contract away.  That was one more task ticked off his bucket list.

 

                “So, can I go, Doctor?”  Tsuna queried, already sliding off the table.

 

                Shamal waved a hand at the door.  “Bed rest, Vongola.  I’ll drop a word to Reborn to tell him to lighten your workload for the next two weeks or so.  If you still have trouble sleeping, come back and I’ll prescribe some medication for you.”

 

                Tsuna mock-saluted before heading for the door.  “Thanks, Shamal.  As always.”

 

                He paused in the doorway, hand lingering on the doorknob as he turned back.  Shamal arched an eyebrow as he took a seat at the desk.  This office had a good view and a lot of space – Tsuna knew that the doctor would choose this room as his main workplace.

 

                “Welcome to the Family, Shamal,” Tsuna beamed, warm and bright and just a bit wistful because he wouldn't be around for too much longer to enjoy the life he’d built with his friends.

 

                Shamal snorted and turned away, though not before Tsuna caught the faintest hint of a smile on his face.  “Get outta here, Vongola.  I’ve got who-knows-how-many people’s medical files to go through.”

 

                With a last grin, Tsuna disappeared out the door.  He couldn't wait to tell Reborn that he’d finally secured the only doctor he’d ever accept into his Family as Vongola’s head of medical staff.

 

                And really, Tsuna didn't think he had even done anything special to acquire said doctor.

 

**{1}**

 

                “Ne, Hayato, Xanxus has come a long way from the enemy we fought all those years ago, don’t you think?”  Tsuna asked casually over dinner several days later.

 

It was just him, his Guardians (it was one of Kyouya’s I’ll-deign-to-eat-with-you-herbivores-but-if-you-do-anything-I-can’t-tolerate-I’ll-bite-you-to-death nights), Shamal, Bianchi, and Reborn tonight.  I-Pin and Fuuta were out with some college friends, Kyoko, Haru, and Hana were visiting family in Japan, and everyone else was either scattered in the other parts of the mansion or away on business.

 

                The question had been posted to Hayato who was sitting on his immediate right but a sudden lull in the usual cacophony caused the entire table to turn to him, thoroughly bemused.

 

                Tsuna stared back placidly as he swallowed a mouthful of pasta.

 

                “Uh, I guess so, Jyuudaime,” Hayato answered after a moment of flummoxed silence.  “I mean his men are loyal to him, and... well, I hate to admit it, but I'm alright with working with him and that crazy team of his.  Though that bastard still blows up half the mansion every time he comes by.”

 

                Tsuna squinted at him, suppressing an amused grin.  “You can’t talk, Hayato.”

 

                His Right-Hand cringed and automatically opened his mouth to babble an apology but stopped himself just in time, rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly instead.  Tsuna quirked a smile.  It had taken a while to break the bomber’s more ardent habits.

 

                Beside Hayato, Takeshi laughed, waving his fork in the air.  “Yeah, and Xanxus only breaks a few walls when he’s here because Squalo never lets up.  Sometimes, I swear he wants to behead me whenever he asks for a spar.”

 

                They all sweatdropped.  Squalo asking for a spar was less asking and more charging at Takeshi at full speed with his sword drawn and bellowing threats at the top of his lungs all the while.

 

                “You clueless sword freak!” Hayato snapped.  “That shark bastard _is_ trying to behead you!”

 

                “Oh?  I didn't know you cared so much, Hayato!”

 

                “Where the hell did you get that idea from, baseball idiot?!”

 

                “Herbivores, be quiet.  I’m trying to eat.”

 

                “Kufufu, dinner wouldn't be dinner without evening entertainment, Kyouya-kun.”

 

                “Mukuro, maybe you shouldn't say that...”

 

                “There is no need to worry, Nagi.  I'm sure they don’t mind.”

 

                “Who are you calling entertainment, bastard?!”

 

                “I’ll bite you to death for addressing me in such a casual manner.”

 

                “Not if I get him first!”

 

                “ARE WE HAVING ANOTHER EXTREME COMPETITION?!  I EXTREMELY WANT TO JOIN!”

 

                “Haha, I’ll join too.  Hayato, we can be on the same team.”

 

                “ _When hell freezes over, sword freak!_ ”

 

                “Oi, oi, settle down.  You’re grownups now; shouldn't you be more mature?”

 

                “Shamal, these kids don’t understand the concept of maturity.”

 

                “You’re one to talk, you hypocrite!  I can _see_ you making your Poison Cooking _right now_!”

 

                “Now, now, Hayato, is that any way to talk to your sister?”

 

                “EXTREME FLYING STEAK!”

 

                “Please calm down!  Boss, they’re starting another food fight!”

 

                “Do take cover, Nagi.  I believe I'm being targeted once again.”

 

                “You’re all crazy!  Tsuna-nii, Gokudera-shi threw mashed potatoes in my soup!”

 

                “NO, I DIDN'T!  THAT’S A _LIE_ , JYUUDAIME!”

 

                Tsuna sighed as the table dissolved into pandemonium.  He didn't feel like wasting breath trying to stop them once again so he snatched up his plate of pasta and the wine he had been drinking before heading for the door.

 

                Sometimes, he wondered just _what_ he had been thinking when he had taken on the Vongola mantle.  He’d plead long-term insanity.

 

                Tsuna felt more than saw Reborn follow him, and as he settled at the counter of one of the smaller, unused kitchens, he made sure to take the inside stool, leaving the other for his ex-tutor.

 

                They ate in a companionable silence for several minutes before Reborn jabbed his fork in Tsuna’s direction.  “A good boss should be able to keep his men under control.”

 

                Tsuna rolled his eyes half-heartedly.  “Yeah, yeah, you've said that a hundred times.  You know I can.  For the most part.”

 

                Reborn hummed noncommittally and said nothing more on the subject.  “I checked your schedule; you’re flying out to Japan tomorrow?”

 

                Tsuna nodded, careful to keep his expression relaxed.  “Yeah, I’ve got some downtime so I thought I’d visit Kaa-san and see how she’s doing.  Takeshi and Onii-san are coming as well, and I’m dragging Tou-san with me too; she’ll be happy to see him.”

 

                Ever since Tsuna had become Decimo, he’d made sure to give his father plenty of time off to go home to Nana, even delegating more of the CEDEF’s work to Basil as the years had passed.  Iemitsu hadn't said anything about it, but Tsuna would like to think that the man was at least grateful for the extra leave.  Nono had been getting old and he’d needed all the help he’d had around him, which had actually gone a long way to allowing Tsuna to forgive his dad for being absent more often than not during his childhood.  A few extra phone calls would've been nice, but Tsuna couldn't hold a grudge forever, and for all his vices, Iemitsu was still the only father he had.

 

                Reborn hummed noncommittally, reaching for his own glass of wine.  “It would've been nice to see Mamma again.  Not so nice that you’re sending me out of the country with _Colonello_.”

 

                Tsuna snickered.  Even after all this time, Reborn and Colonello still butted heads with each other.  Tsuna had dissolved into hysterical laughter when the latter had shuffled up to the former one day, picked a fight with him, and then proceeded to ask the hitman to be his best man at his and Lal’s wedding.  He’d laughed even harder when Reborn had grudgingly accepted after throwing in a few choice insults in and an uppercut to Colonello’s jaw.

 

                Of course, Tsuna had paid for it afterwards, but it’d been worth it.

 

                He glanced over at Reborn when he didn't immediately get a slap to the head for laughing at the man’s expense, and found the assassin watching him with an almost fond expression on his face, quickly wiped away when Tsuna blinked at him.

 

                Carefully, Tsuna slid his own gaze back onto his food, pretending not to notice the slight tension that had suddenly spiked between them.

 

                Tsuna was twenty-five now, and while he wouldn't say he was worldly or particularly wise, he’d like to think he’d grown less naive over the years.  Heck, he’d had his fair share of seeing just how bad people could become before he had even turned sixteen, knew how dark the world could be, and his own hands were stained with blood no matter how hard he’d worked to change Vongola.  There was only so much he could do so fast.

 

                And in between all that, he’d had a few lovers, Kyoko being the first and the only one he still talked to on a regular basis.  To be fair, they all lived together so not talking was kind of unavoidable, but they were still good friends despite the fact that their relationship hadn't really made it beyond a few awkward months back in high school.  They had tried, but Kyoko had been Tsuna’s first crush, more of a puppy-love sort of adoration than anything long-lasting, and they had both agreed that they were much better off as good friends.  Kyoko had been the only girlfriend he’d had that he’d managed to break up with on good terms; probably the only reason Ryohei hadn't snapped him in two afterwards.

 

                The next few – literally three others – had lasted longer but they had been nowhere near as precious to him as Kyoko had been and still was.  The first had been another girl in high school, but she had been largely uncomfortable with all the madness in Tsuna’s life, and someone like that wouldn't last two seconds in the mafia world.

 

The next had started just before he had become Decimo – a young woman, Delfina, in an allied Family whom Tsuna had had a fun time with for almost eight months before they had parted ways, mostly because she hadn't been all that happy with his busy schedule and refusal to sign a few extra trade agreements between their Famiglias.

 

Embarrassingly enough, more than one of his Guardians had been overjoyed to see the back of her, though at least he’d managed to find a sympathetic ear with Kyoko and Haru right after the breakup.

 

The third and last had been his first male lover.  His Family had been even less pleased with this one than Delfina, and, as it had turned out, with good reason.

 

Tsuna had been almost twenty-two, seven months after he had become an Arcobaleno, and Gino had been an easygoing but talented unaffiliated assassin with a cocky grin and mischievous green eyes that Tsuna had met in an Italian café one day when one of Vongola’s enemies had opened fire on them in broad daylight.  Only two years older, the man had started hitting on Tsuna right there in the middle of the shootout, and before it was over, Gino had managed to slip him a name and a phone number before hightailing out of there, laughing without a care in the world even as he’d ducked the tonfa Kyouya had hurled at him after the Cloud Guardian had caught the exchange.

 

 Tsuna hadn't called – it wasn't really in his nature – but three weeks after their first meeting, he’d bumped into Gino again on a mission he had been wrapping up with Hayato.  Thankfully, they hadn't been on opposing sides, and this time, despite Hayato’s bristling agitation when Gino had begun flirting with Tsuna yet again, Tsuna had found himself amused and had cautiously agreed to a coffee run with the man once the mission had been over.  He’d made Tsuna laugh over their impromptu sort-of-date, and Tsuna had been pleasantly surprised to discover that he’d enjoyed it.

 

Perhaps he had been corrupted by the insanity that was his friends and family, but Gino had stuck in his mind, and he hadn't seen any harm in giving the man a chance.  Gino had lasted over a year, to the point where he had become a regular presence around the Vongola mansion and even Hayato had stopped growling at the man whenever the dynamite specialist had clapped eyes on him.

 

(And more than a few times, Tsuna had almost – _almost_ – spilled his closest-guarded secret to the assassin, but something had always held him back, even though it had made him feel guilty for leading Gino on in a roundabout way.  Tsuna was going to die sooner rather than later and it would've been the selfless thing – the _right_ thing – to do to break their relationship off before it got too serious.)

 

As it was, that hadn't been necessary anyway.

 

It had been the middle of the night, nearing three o’clock in the morning, and Tsuna had been sleeping when Reborn had swept in and shook him awake (with unusually gentle hands and to an empty spot where Gino should’ve been), features grim and apprehensive, and eyes burning with murderous rage.

 

Apparently, Gino had been caught by Mukuro, who had come in late from an assignment and had been in the process of dropping off his report on Tsuna’s desk (locks meant nothing to the illusionist, or any of Tsuna’s most trusted, really) before going to bed to catch up on his sleep.  The Mist Guardian had silently breezed past all the locks and strode in, only to find a startled Gino on Tsuna’s computer and copying all the data he had been able to get his hands on onto a USB.

 

When Tsuna had rushed in on the scene, heart cold and numb with betrayal, it was to find even Mukuro’s signature smirk nowhere in sight and his trident stabbed clean through Gino’s arm without mercy, pinning the infiltrator against one wall like a mounted butterfly.

 

Tsuna had come very, very close to saying yes when Mukuro had asked, casual and dark and lethal, for permission to take Gino outside for a little accident.

 

But revenge had never been Tsuna’s style, and even if Gino had never had any feelings for Tsuna, had only been using him in the end, that hadn't meant that Tsuna’s feelings automatically went away.

 

So, ignoring Gino’s pleas and attempts to talk his way out of the mess, Tsuna had ordered a thorough investigation into the whole matter – firewalls reviewed and updated, passwords changed, all systems checked for viruses and hacks – before quietly telling Mukuro not to kill Gino but that he never wanted to see the man again.

 

Mukuro had looked like he wanted to argue, but something in Tsuna’s expression must have given away the agony twisting his heart because the illusionist had nodded curtly, yanked his trident out as painfully as physically possible, before hauling Gino forward and disappearing in a flash of Mist flames.

 

It was only Reborn’s steady, solid presence at his back that ensured Tsuna’s stumbling but ultimately successful retreat back to his bedroom.  Distantly, he’d thanked his former tutor at the door with a brittle smile that hadn't quite fit on his face before locking himself in and spending the rest of the night and the next day curled up in blankets at his window bay and staring sightlessly out into the garden.

 

True to Mukuro’s word (or nod), Tsuna never saw Gino again.  To this day, he had no idea what had happened to his ex-lover, but even Nagi had sworn up and down that the man was still alive.

 

 _Unfortunately_ , she’d added with uncharacteristic venom.

 

(Privately, Tsuna thought Mukuro had been a bad influence on her.)

 

Mukuro had obviously told the other Guardians though, who had, all things considered, most likely taken turns doing unmentionably evil things to Gino that Tsuna would've definitely not approved of, and even Reborn had most likely confronted the assassin, whose ideas for vengeance was, without a doubt, worse than everyone else’s combined.  When Tsuna had emerged from his room, all of them had still been seething, and Hayato had personally promised him that Tsuna would only ever need to say the word, and the bomber would blast Gino off the face of the planet.  Permanently.

 

Tsuna had only shaken his head and refrained from asking for details of what they _had_ done, and no one had ever told him.

 

Still, it had taken several months before his smile had started feeling like a smile again, and he could stop wanting to smash something or cry whenever he had happened to glance at something or some place that had reminded him of Gino.

 

But that had been sufficient experience to warn him away from any other serious relationships, especially when he’d started getting glimpses of his own impending death mere months after that breakup, and he’d become adept at recognizing and brushing off coy smiles and seduction attempts and blushing love confessions at functions and balls and even when he was walking down the street.

 

So, on an ordinary Tuesday afternoon, when he’d been teasing Reborn about his latest growth spurt – the hitman had finally hit Tsuna’s age of twenty-three-almost-twenty-four – Tsuna had almost dropped the camera he had been holding when he’d caught an extra edge of _something_ in the sidelong mock-glare Reborn had been sending in return, and it had taken him several frozen seconds to realize that it was the sort of look Colonello sent Lal, except with far less teasing adoration and none of the lovestruck earnestness that the former Rain Arcobaleno had had now and then before Lal had agreed to marry him.  It had struck Tsuna with all the force of a sledgehammer, and he’d nearly reeled back from the shock of it, foreign and familiar, heated and breathtaking and absolutely impossible.

 

Tsuna had kept an eye out for that perplexing storm of emotion though, and he’d caught it again on occasion, never for long and always gone in a matter of heartbeats, but there all the same.

 

(And maybe it had always been there, perhaps not in that precise way, but always in some form or another, almost since they had first met – affection and pride of a teacher towards a student, and then warm fondness of a friend to a friend, and then...)

 

Tsuna had been uncertain of whether or not he had gotten it right at first.  After all, this was _Reborn_ , who could have anyone he wanted, who had countless females ready to throw themselves at him, who had _Bianchi_ waiting, starry-eyed and devoted, in the wings.

 

But then Reborn had taken Bianchi out one day and had come back alone, eyes shadowed underneath his fedora, and when Bianchi had come home the next day, she had requested some time off to travel that Tsuna had hesitantly granted after seeing her red-rimmed eyes and the bitter downward tilt of her mouth when she had caught sight of Reborn.

 

She’d returned four months later, lighter and happier, and she’d been able to greet Reborn without pause, and while she’d given him a hug, she hadn't latched on as she typically would've before.

 

(And last Tsuna had heard from the Vongola rumour mill, Bianchi had been spotted eating lunch with Lancia at a nearby restaurant.)

 

Reborn never paid any attention to his flock of admirers either, even though he’d dance with them at functions if it was required and always seemed to have fun smirking at them and making them swoon.

 

And the sidelong glances continued, infrequent and not obvious or ridiculously doe-eyed like Tsuna’s own admirers-sometimes-bordering-on-stalkers, but _present_ enough for Tsuna to realize where Reborn’s interests laid, whether or not the hitman himself was aware of it.

 

So when Tsuna finally managed to wrap his head around this fact, he’d found himself embarrassed and actually flattered, because if there was one person he could point to and say he admired and trusted above all else, it was Reborn, who had been by his side ever since Nono had decided to make Tsuna his heir.

 

But at the same time, he knew nothing could ever come of it.

 

It wasn't the fact that it was _Reborn_ , his ex-tutor and current advisor, that stopped him from making anything out of it, or their age difference, or the fuss his father might kick up, or what some people might say about them, or even the fact that Tsuna had never exclusively thought of the hitman that way.  He already loved Reborn, just like he loved his Guardians and other close Family members; they were his life.  It would probably be very easy to fall for the man if he allowed himself the leisure.

 

(Hell, he might be halfway there already.)

 

But he couldn't, because he was going to die soon, because the curse was the one lie Reborn would never forgive him for even if it was by omission and to protect them.

 

And because it wouldn't be fair to Reborn to have a secret like that looming between them, especially because it was them, because in a way, Tsuna was paying the price for Reborn’s – and the other Arcobaleno’s – freedom.

 

So even now, a year and three months (not that he was counting) after Tsuna had first taken notice of Reborn’s interest, even though it was just the two of them in an otherwise empty kitchen and he could bring it up any time and Reborn wouldn't laugh at him and probably wouldn't deny it, Tsuna continued pretending that there was nothing there.

 

It should be a passing interest at most, and Reborn had made no mention of it himself.  If it was all that important, then surely the hitman would've said something by now, pursued it instead of holding back.

 

Tsuna polished off the last of his dinner before glancing at Reborn again.  The assassin was staring contemplatively into his wineglass now, expression closed off and unreadable.

 

“Christmas is coming up,” He started lightly, hoping to clear the air.  Reborn’s gaze flicked back towards him as deft fingers idly twirled the glass in his hand.  “So I’ll be coming back with Kaa-san to celebrate, and Takeshi’s bringing his dad.  Kyoko and the others will be taking the flight back with us as well.”

 

Reborn nodded.  “Hm, and you’ll be inviting the Varia, I suppose?”

 

“Of course,” Tsuna bit back a snicker.  “You ask that every Christmas.  You should be glad I don’t invite the Vindice for the family party.”

 

“I thank Santa Claus every year for that miracle,” Reborn deadpanned, and Tsuna laughed.

 

Unlike the Christmas party where _everyone_ was invited, the family party was just for Vongola’s upper echelon and all their closest blood relatives (those of them who still _had_ blood relatives), as well as Timoteo and his Guardians, Dino, Romario, and the former Arcobaleno and associates whom Tsuna either hadn't quite been able to convince into Vongola yet or had their own Family to run (namely Verde who had labs in the Vongola mansion anyway, and Aria, Yuni, and Gamma and his two brothers, who had the Giglio Nero).

 

“Well,” Tsuna slipped off his stool, gathering up his plate and utensils as Reborn followed suit.  “Just make sure you and Colonello get back in time; Lal will kick my ass if her husband is still on a mission when Christmas swings around, and it’d be plain weird if you weren’t around causing chaos and havoc along with everyone else.”

 

Reborn snorted.  “Please, I just point your unruly Guardians in the right direction and they do the rest all by themselves.  As if they need my help blowing up the house.”

 

As if on cue, a boom came from the main dining room and the walls shook ominously in the ensuing silence.

 

Tsuna exchanged a glance with his advisor before they both shook their heads and bowed out of returning to the rest of the Family.  If they didn't see it, they could pretend it wasn't happening.

 

**{1}**

 

                “You go on ahead, Tou-san,” Tsuna said when they reached the front gates of Tsuna’s childhood home.  “I want to take a walk around first.  It’s been a while since I’ve been back in Namimori.”

 

                Iemitsu blinked at him before his features softened into teasing lines.  “Giving your mother and I alone time to do adult things, Tsuna?  How sweet of y- oof!”

 

                Tsuna pulled back the duffel bag he had smacked into his father’s face.  “Shut up, old man, I just feel like taking a walk.  I’ll be back in an hour on the outside.”

 

                “Alright, alright,” Iemitsu waved cheerfully at him, already looking eager to get into the house.  “Don’t go eating anything though; your mother will have a five-star gourmet spread ready for us.”

 

                Tsuna smiled at the thought and nodded agreeably before meandering down the street.  He didn't stop until he had gone several blocks down, stopping only once he had reached the bridge stretching over Namimori River.

 

                For a moment, he let his thoughts drift down memory lane, remembering the time he’d had to save Haru and Reborn had shot him with a Dying Will Bullet so he’d go through with it.

 

                With a wistful sigh, he turned and leaned back against the railing before glancing to the side.  “It’s been a while, Kawahira-san.”

 

                There was a pause, and then a ripple of Mist flames shimmered into existence, clearing to reveal the white-haired man that Tsuna had known to have been following him ever since he had stepped out of the airport.

 

                “As expected of Vongola Decimo,” Kawahira dipped his head in a polite, almost respectful bow.  “How have you been, Sawada-san?”

 

                “As well as can be expected under the circumstances,” Tsuna retorted dryly.  “Let’s not waste time on small talk, Kawahira-san.  I haven’t seen my mother in nine months; I’d like to get back as soon as possible.  What do you want?”

 

                Kawahira straightened, remaining silent for several seconds as he joined Tsuna at the railing.

 

                “It is almost time,” He said at last.  “Are you prepared?”

 

                Tsuna scoffed, staring down at the water below.  “You followed me all this way to ask me that?  Even if I wasn't prepared, it isn’t as if I can do anything about it, right?”

 

                Kawahira said nothing.  A chilly gust of wind howled past them and Tsuna absently pulled up the collar of his coat.  It was bound to be even colder in Italy.

 

                He sighed.  “I'm as ready as I can be.  Vongola’s come a long way; I've cleared up most of the bad business it’s been dealing in, I’ve settled the more serious grudges and created more alliances than I can count, and I've been dreaming about heirs recently.  Literally.  Has Yuni ever told you that seeing the future is a pain in the ass?”

 

                Kawahira looked unfazed by Tsuna’s bout of unrelenting sarcasm, though the man did give him a searching look.  “You’ve become somewhat jaded, Sawada-san.”

 

                A scathing rejoinder was on the tip of Tsuna’s tongue, but he reined it in with effort.  Odd.  He’d always had a long fuse, had to or he’d never have been able to handle his Family on a daily basis.

 

                But with Kawahira, it was as if the man was somehow purposefully drawing out every negative emotion that Tsuna had ever tucked away at the bottom of his heart.

 

                Tsuna sighed again, a tired sound this time, snatched up and whisked away by the wind.  “What do you want, Kawahira-san?”

 

                “...Two hundred years,” Kawahira said eventually.  “I can extend the time between choosing Sky Arcobaleno to two hundred years.”

 

                Most of Tsuna was relieved to hear that.  A small part of him thought rather spitefully, _a consolation prize._

 

                “That’s good,” Tsuna said dully.  And it was, it really was, because as selfish as it was, two hundred years at least meant that none of the people he knew would still be alive to take on the responsibility.

 

                But there was still that snarling resentment locked away in the recesses of his mind, the one that wanted to scream at Kawahira and Yuni and the rest of the world for being _unfair_.

 

                Yeah.  He supposed he hadn't quite come to terms with dying yet.

 

                He swallowed it down.  Reborn and the others had suffered without complaint.  And once upon a time, Yuni had sacrificed herself willingly, scared but still pushing on, and she had been far younger than Tsuna was now.

 

                _At least she had Gamma holding her hand,_ the malicious, cynical monster spat out.

 

                _Shut up_ , the rest of Tsuna snapped back sternly.  _I chose to do this.  I could've chosen not to.  But there’s no way I would've._

 

                And the rebellious voice subsided sullenly because that was true for any part of Tsuna.  It wasn't fair, and he wished, desperately, that there was another way, but-

 

                Better him than his Family.

 

                Opening eyes that he hadn't known he had closed, Tsuna straightened and nodded a cordial goodbye to Kawahira.  “I have to get going; I promised I’d be back in an hour.”

 

                Kawahira inclined his head.  “Of course.  Goodnight, Sawada-san.”

 

                Tsuna grunted, his manners not quite deserting him as he echoed the parting sentiment before turning for home.

 

                Well, at least his mother’s cooking never failed to cheer him up.

 

**{1}**

 

                “Have you been eating enough?”  Tsuna’s mother asked anxiously as she pulled back from their hug and fussed over him.  “You haven’t been working too hard, have you?  Or gotten hurt?”

 

                Tsuna smiled reassuringly at her.  “I’ve had a couple late nights, but Shamal’s been keeping a close eye on me, and you know how my Guardians are; they all think I can’t take care of myself.  Getting hurt’s next to impossible with them around.”

 

                Nana’s worried frown smoothed out at the mention of his friends.  One of the first things Tsuna had done after he had made up his mind to become Vongola Decimo had been to tell Nana about everything – not the gory details of course but a general overview of the mafia and what it entailed.

 

                He and his father had argued long and hard over it.  In the end, Tsuna had lost his temper ( _You can’t keep_ lying _to her forever, you crappy excuse for a husband!!  She was involved the moment you decided to marry her!  At this rate, you’re going to lose her!_   _I won’t do the same!_ ), whipping out his flames and handing Iemitsu’s ass to him in a beat down that even Reborn had been impressed with.

 

                And then he’d marched both of them home, sat them down with Nana across from them, and, as gently as he had been able to, told her the truth, told her how Iemitsu was, for all intents and purposes, a criminal, and how he himself would be joining Vongola but that he was aiming to change it.

 

                She’d cried, of course, and Tsuna’s heart had ached, but he’d known her well enough to realize just how much strength she had under her kind nature to stay happy for him all the time and to carry on even with an absentee husband.

 

                And then, after she had dried her tears and returned the tight hug Tsuna had given her, she’d asked him to step outside for a few hours.  Tsuna had, and he’d paced the nearby park with Reborn, still tiny and light enough, on his shoulder until sundown before making his way back, only to find a strangely meek Iemitsu on the couch nursing a bloody nose with an ice pack, and Nana, while not quite smiling, still bustling around the kitchen fixing a late dinner with a lighter air about her as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders.

 

                She’d beamed when Tsuna had walked in, and told her she was very proud of him – the first time she had ever said it and Tsuna had actually believed her – before thanking him for telling her the truth and reminding him to be careful since he was now involved in such dangerous business.

 

                And that had been that.  She hadn't scolded him for mixing himself up in the mafia or told him to pick a different – legal – career.  She had simply told him to be careful.  She trusted his decision and his goals, and she was proud of him.

 

                Tsuna had loved her just for that.

 

                And even after moving to Italy just before he’d turned nineteen, he’d made clear to his mother in no uncertain terms that he’d call her at least once a week, and he’d given her both a phone number and an email address.  There was no concern over assassins coming to find her either because Kyouya’s personal army – no longer just a student discipline committee – would protect the town from anyone wanting to do it and its residents harm.

 

                “Well, you go get washed up then,” Nana was saying now.  “Dinner’s almost ready.  Make sure your father puts his laundry in the washing machine, okay?”

 

                “Yes, Kaa-san,” Tsuna said with a hidden grin.  That was another thing that still amazed him even now.  His mother had gotten stricter with Iemitsu’s bad habits, forbidding him from trekking mud in through the door and refusing to let him laze around the living room in his boxers, half-drunk off his ass.

 

                His grin faded as he climbed the stairs.  He’d yelled at his own father for keeping secrets from Nana, and now he was doing the same thing, except this time it was his death.

 

                Tsuna wasn't sure if that was better or worse.

 

                What he was sure of was that he was a goddamn hypocrite.

 

**{1}**

 

                “Are you sure you’ve packed everything you need, Kaa-san?  It’s seriously cold over in Italy.”

 

                “I’m sure, Tsu-kun.  I _have_ been to Italy in the winter before, you know.  And I seem to remember someone stocking up my closet over at that giant mansion of yours with even more clothes the last time I visited.”

 

                “I know, I know, but you almost came down with hypothermia that first Christmas.  I worry.”

 

                Takeshi grinned as he watched his best friend recheck Nana’s bags for the umpteenth time as the woman looked on with an indulgent smile.  Tsuna never changed; even after becoming a mafia boss – and the mafia bit was debatable – he still fretted over the people around him with his usual penchant for excessive worrying.

 

                Speaking of which...

 

                “Tou-san,” Takeshi turned to the right as his father walked up, dragging his luggage behind him.  “Did you pack enough warm clothes?”

 

                His dad sent him an amused smile.  “You’re picking up Tsuna-kun’s habits, Takeshi.  You do remember that I’ve worked in Italy before, right?”

 

                Takeshi rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.  Yeah, he did, and hadn't that been a shock.  To learn that his father had once been an assassin before retiring and becoming a sushi chef wasn't something Takeshi had exactly expected.

 

                “Sawada-sama, the plane is ready for takeoff.”

 

                Takeshi glanced back at his boss, who had stepped forward to meet one of their pilots.  He picked up his own bags as Tsuna nodded and murmured a few orders that had the pilot nodding and hurrying away, checking his watch as he left.

 

                “What was that about?”  Takeshi enquired as he fell into step beside Tsuna and their respective families began making their way towards the private jet.

 

                “Hmm?”  Tsuna glanced up at him, rubbing a hand over his face in a tired gesture that had Takeshi making a mental note to drop a word to Hayato to lighten their boss’ workload.  “Oh, I asked him to check the luggage rack; remember the last time we forgot to do that?”

 

                Takeshi chuckled at the memory.  “Oh yeah, that was the time Ryohei tried to fit all the electronic boxing equipment he got from Shoichi and Giannini-san into the back and ended up short-circuiting half the plane!  That was funny!”

 

                He grinned when Tsuna shot him an exasperated look.  “We _fell_ out of the sky, Takeshi.  It was a miracle we managed to clear Namimori before we crashed or we would've had to deal with a pissed off Kyouya as well.”

 

                Takeshi just laughed and slung an arm around the brunet.  “Maa, maa, it worked out in the end, and we even got to skydive from the plane.”

 

                “Because it was _on fire_ ,” Tsuna deadpanned, but his mouth twitched up helplessly into a rueful smile.  “You are so, so lucky that Hayato wasn't with us that time.”

 

                Takeshi sweatdropped.  Yeah, that might’ve been a problem.  At the very least, he would've had to sit through a three-hour-long lecture from Hayato, even though they both knew that Takeshi would sooner die than let any harm come to Tsuna.

 

                “I extremely can’t wait for the party!”

 

                Takeshi peered over Tsuna’s head at the approaching Sun Guardian, Kyoko and Haru chatting behind him as Hana walked at the boxer’s side, a long-suffering look on her face even as she allowed Ryohei to drag her along by the hand.

 

                Those two had been a bit of a surprise when they had started dating, but no one could deny the fact that Hana had a real knack for calming Ryohei down whenever the boxer became too... extreme.  Kyoko had been delighted, and Hana had been welcomed into their midst with general enthusiasm.

 

                Takeshi’s expression darkened in thought.  And Hana was certainly a far sight better than that bastard Gino had ever been for Tsuna.  In Takeshi’s humble opinion, he definitely hadn't hit that turncoat hard enough, but Tsuna had said not to kill him, and there was only so much Takeshi could do with his katana when he was as angry as he had been and in no mood to hold back.

 

                He shook the memories and glanced at Tsuna again, blinking when he found the brunet staring distantly at the skyline outside one of the floor to ceiling windows of the airport.

 

                Tsuna did that sometimes, a tendency that Takeshi had noticed and chalked up to his best friend’s Hyper Intuition.

 

                “Tsuna?”  He interrupted tentatively, automatically scanning their surroundings for danger even as Tsuna zoomed back into the present and focused on him.  “Is something wrong?”

 

                For an instant, something dark and melancholic slunk into Tsuna’s eyes, creeping up like evening shadows and sending a thrum of something that bordered on terror straight into Takeshi’s heart.

 

                “Tsuna?”  He repeated, instinctively reaching for his sword.

 

                But Tsuna’s eyes cleared again in the blink of an eye, leaving behind the typical warm brown as the brunet smiled again.  “I was just thinking that I’m going to miss Namimori, that’s all.”

 

                Takeshi stared hard at his best friend.  Uneasiness continued prickling the back of his neck but Tsuna sounded honest enough if somewhat nostalgic.

 

                “Well,” Takeshi relinquished his grip on the hilt of his katana.  “You’ll see it again when we come back.  This is our hometown after all; we’ll probably all retire back here when we’re old and wrinkly.”

 

                A startled laugh slipped from Tsuna’s mouth, and Takeshi relaxed as they boarded the jet.  That was better; he had probably just imagined it.  Everything had been going right recently, and none of them had even had to get into any really serious fights.  Christmas was coming up fast too, and their entire family would be gathering together; there was no reason for Tsuna to be sad.

 

                Still, Takeshi couldn't quite shake off the feeling of wrongness completely, even when he shoved it to the back of his mind and forgot about it for the most part.

 

                Because his instincts told him that something was about to go very, very wrong, and unfortunately, his instincts were usually right.

 

**{1}**

 

                Bang!

 

                “The hell do you want, pipsqueak trash?!”

 

                Tsuna jolted awake, rings halfway transformed to gloves and hands already glowing with Sky flames before his brain caught up with the fact that it was only Xanxus glowering in his doorway, arms crossed and completely ignoring the flustered staff member trying to usher the frankly terrifying Mafioso back out of Tsuna’s office.

 

                “It’s fine, Celia,” Tsuna said, offering a reassuring smile.  “Xanxus is one of the people who can come in here anytime.  Don’t worry; I’ll take it from here, thank you.”

 

                Celia – new, obviously – blushed, stammered out an apology, and hastily curtsied before backing out the door and closing it behind her.

 

                Xanxus snorted derisively as he crossed the room in four strides, flinging himself down onto Tsuna’s couch with all the deadly grace of a hunting tiger.  “How many times do I have to tell you – you’re too soft on the servants; they should all know the rules by now.”

 

                “She’s new,” Tsuna admonished mildly, shoving aside some of the paperwork he had fallen asleep on.  “She’ll get the hang of it sooner or later.”

 

                Xanxus snorted again, but it was an age-old argument and the Varia leader didn't bother dredging it up once more.  “Whatever.  Just so long as you don’t start trying to replace _my_ staff with pussies.”

 

Tsuna quirked a smile.  “I would never dream of it.  Did you and your team have a nice flight?  You’ll be staying for New Year’s too, right?”

 

Xanxus scowled gruffly at him.  “You’ve turned my fucking team into a bunch of wusses; they’ll riot if they don’t get to go through the fucking _countdown_.  And that homo trash has been doing his Christmas shopping since October, so of course, all the other trashes had to one-up him.  I think you’ll need a bigger tree.”

 

Tsuna huffed a laugh.  “I’ll keep that in mind; I think Verde’s got some special fertilizer lying around that’ll make plants grow in minutes.”

 

                Xanxus just rolled his eyes and glared impatiently at him.  “Enough of this shit.  I spent the entire flight over here listening to those bitches whine about something or other; I want to go to bed.  What do you want?  That bomber trash made it sound like it was a life-or-death issue when he said you wanted to see me.”

 

                Tsuna suppressed a sardonic smile.  Hayato made everything sound like a life-or-death issue when it came to Tsuna’s orders.

 

                Although technically, as it turned out, this _was_ a life-or-death issue.

 

                “Well, actually, I’ve been wanting to talk to you about this for a while now,” Tsuna started, and Xanxus shifted, crimson eyes narrowing when he caught the note of sobriety in Tsuna’s voice.  “What do you think of the Vongola, Xanxus?”

 

                Xanxus looked taken aback for all of a nanosecond before the scowl came back full force.  “You’re wasting my precious sleeping time for this, trash?”

 

                Tsuna levelled a steadfast gaze on the Mafioso.  “Humour me.”

 

                Xanxus heaved a sigh, irritation flickering over his features, but his eyes turned thoughtful as he mulled over Tsuna’s question.

 

                “Could do with a few more hits,” He said at last, a sneer curling his lip.  “At the rate you’re going, the Varia’s going to be out of a job.  But I can’t see you stopping your fucking rainbows and sunshine campaign for world peace, and the Vongola’s gotten stronger, so I don’t have too many complaints.  And if the police trash keeps handing us those so-called impossible missions that their wimpy agents can’t handle, I can tolerate them.”

 

                Tsuna nodded, keeping his expression blank as he absorbed Xanxus’ answer.  “Then... you wouldn't have any problems with Vongola continuing on this path?”

 

                Xanxus’ sneer grew more pronounced.  “Did you not hear a word I just said, trash?”

 

                Tsuna shook his head, leaning forward intently.  “That’s not what I mean.  I mean, even if I were to die tomorrow, would you continue furthering Vongola along this path?  Would you help this Family continue in the direction that I have chosen for it?”

 

                Xanxus had gone utterly still.  His expression darkened like a thundercloud.  Tsuna only watched on, calm and apprehensive at the same time.

 

                “...Are you planning to die tomorrow?”  Xanxus enquired almost conversationally if not for the simmering inflection underlying each word that told Tsuna that one wrong implication would tip the man straight into full-blown pissed off mode.  Over the years, Xanxus had gained a much better handle on his near-uncontrollable rage, but the man tended not to keep as much of an iron hold on it when he was amongst Family.

 

                (Tsuna would like to think that that was because Xanxus considered Vongola home and he could be a little freer with his emotions than he would with allies or strangers or enemies.)

 

                “Of course not,” Tsuna waved a dismissive hand, locking down on the trepidation he felt and forcing his voice to remain light and relatively carefree.  “At the very least, I’d want my portion of Christmas turkey first.

 

“But hypothetically,” Tsuna stared hard at the Varia leader, humour fading away.  “If I weren’t around anymore, would you help continue my legacy?”

 

Tsuna had to hand it to him; Xanxus might not have the Vongola Hyper Intuition but the man’s instincts were top-notch.  He was watching Tsuna like a hawk right now, and if Tsuna had been trained by anyone other than Reborn, Xanxus probably would've picked something up.

 

As it was, the Varia leader slowly settled back into the couch, still eyeing him suspiciously.  “...That depends.  Who’d be in charge if you kicked the bucket?”

 

Ah.  And here they’d arrived at the crux of the matter.

 

“Well, I'm not planning on getting married anytime soon,” Tsuna announced matter-of-factly.  “I obviously have no blood heirs, and even if I did, they’d be too young right now to step up as the Eleventh.  Until someone could be found, Vongola would need a regent.”

 

He paused.  “So I'm asking you again, Xanxus; will you carry on my legacy even after I'm no longer around?  I have no desire to see Vongola drenched in blood and betrayal and death again; I need to know where you would lead this Family.”

 

Despite the gravity of the situation, Tsuna spared a moment to enjoy the stunned look on Xanxus’ face; it wasn't every day that the Varia leader looked so openly staggered.

 

And then the fury slammed home.

 

“ _Are you fucking insane, trash?!_ ”  Xanxus roared, leaping to his feet in one smooth motion before stalking forward to tower over Tsuna.  “Is this some kind of joke?!  Have you forgotten who I am?!”

 

With practiced ease, Tsuna waited out the rant, allowing Xanxus to wind the insults to a close before speaking again.

 

“No, I'm not insane, and no, this isn’t a joke,” Tsuna reached into one of his drawers and withdrew a sheaf of documents.  “And it’s because you are who you are that I'm asking you in the first place.”

 

He dropped the paperwork on his desk in front of the glaring Varia leader.  “If I ever died, I need someone capable, someone strong, someone who won’t take shit from enemy Families, and someone who cares about Vongola, about the _people_ who make up Vongola, to take over as regent.

 

“That isn’t to say I'm giving you all the power of Vongola boss,” Tsuna said with a slight smile, intuition and all the years of knowing this man coming into play.  He knew what Xanxus was afraid of, knew the whispers that, to this day, even with Tsuna quashing them as much as possible, lingered amongst the few pockets of Mafioso here and there, jeers behind closed doors of _gutter rat_ and _traitor_ and _thank-god-we-have-Sawada-sama-instead-of-a-monster-who-can’t-control-his-own-temper_.

 

It was the last that probably affected Xanxus most.  He’d worked through his adoption issues with Timoteo, and Tsuna had long ago hashed out all the betrayal concerns with the man, but the last was something that Xanxus had always had a problem with.

 

Xanxus cared about Vongola; it had been his home ever since the Ninth had taken him in, and even with all the anger-fueled misunderstandings that had happened in between, Xanxus still cared about Vongola.  His greatest fear would be unintentionally destroying it should he ever go on a rampage.

 

But Tsuna also knew that Xanxus was past that, if only _because_ the man was so afraid of doing exactly that.  Xanxus wouldn't _let_ himself lose control; not anymore, and besides, he had plenty of people beside him now who wouldn't hesitate to knock him down a few pegs if he ever did snap and run wild.

 

“Basil and the rest of the CEDEF will hold a smaller piece of control over this Family,” Tsuna continued.  “As well as Hayato, being my second-in-command and all.  And another part will go to Reborn, my closest advisor.  The rest would go to you.  Power of the Vongola boss will be split between four parties; that should provide sufficient security should anything ever go wrong, don’t you think?”

 

Xanxus was still staring at him as if he expected Tsuna to start cackling madly any minute or wave everything off as one big joke.  When Tsuna didn't, the man closed his eyes, visibly reeled in his anger, and stormed back over to the couch.

 

“You're insane,” He said flatly once he was sitting down again.  “Even if I was willing to continue your legacy, which is next to impossible and so fucking naive it makes me want to gag by the way, who the fuck else would accept it?”

 

“Your team would,” Tsuna immediately responded.  “And my Guardians would, because it is my decision and they will respect it.  They respect you too, for all the fights and arguments you lot get into.  Reborn would, because I didn't make this choice lightly, and he always understands the things I do, no matter how crazy or unconventional.  All the people who matter would accept it, and that should be enough.  The rest is up to you.”

 

Xanxus was silent for a long, stilted moment, scrutinizing Tsuna as if he was something that the Varia leader had never come across before.

 

“...Let me see that,” Xanxus finally said, leaning forward and holding out a hand for the documents.  Tsuna handed it to him without a word.

 

The Varia leader read it five times.  Tsuna was fairly certain that the man had had the entire thing memorized after the third time but was only stalling now.

 

“You’re taking a big gamble,” Xanxus remarked without fanfare when he looked up at last.  “It’s not like you.  Why now?”

 

Tsuna shrugged easily.  “Why not now?  There's always a possibility of me dying anytime; best to be prepared.”

 

Xanxus didn't look like he quite believed him but it was a perfectly valid reason and most bosses always had an heir or regent ready on the side just in case.

 

Another drawn-out silence ensued as Xanxus flipped through the papers once more.

 

“Are you sure?”  He growled, pinning Tsuna with a piercing stare.  “Vongola is rising in terms of power; I suppose I wouldn't have any problems continuing your... plans for this Family, pathetic as they can be.  But are you sure, Decimo?”

 

It was only the second time Xanxus had ever used Tsuna’s title – the first had been after Tsuna had defended the Varia’s upper echelon in full view of the public from some of the more outspoken Mafioso who had sneered at Xanxus and his team.

 

“Yes,” Tsuna nodded, firm and unyielding as his flame glowed in his chest and his Pacifier burned against his leg.  “I trust you with this Family.  I trust you to take good care of it in my stead.”

 

Xanxus exhaled through his nose. His mouth twisted a little into something resembling a smile, and his expression tinged with something a little like gratitude and a little like contented pride. And then he pulled out a pen and signed his name at the bottom of the contract before tossing it back to Tsuna.

 

Tsuna smiled even as he sealed the entire thing with his Sky flames, ensuring its authenticity for any who would question his word after his death.

 

“It better just be a precaution though,” Xanxus snapped irritably even as he turned away and sauntered towards the door.  “Just looking at your paperwork makes me sick, and if you get yourself offed by some piece of trash out there, I’ll raise you from the dead and kill you myself.”

 

Tsuna chuckled at the threat, but as his office door swung shut behind the Varia leader, his smile faded and his shoulders sagged.

 

He knew he had just finalized one of the last steps that he’d needed to make before his death.

 

His heart felt cold.

 

                And in his pocket, the Sky Pacifier pressed against his leg, a constant reminder of his fast-approaching end.

 

**Please leave a review on your way out.**


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok, so first, in case anyone didn’t get it, Tsuna’s now the Sky Arcobaleno since the only other choice was for all the pacifiers to go back to their last vessels (Reborn, Yuni or Aria, etc.).  
> Second, no, there won’t be any explicit slash (or otherwise) scenes; this is rated T, people.  
> And I’m glad to see that I’m not the only one who thinks that Yuni isn’t just the epitome of good; I was starting to think there was something wrong with me. She’s just portrayed as such a good person, and yet there was always something about her that rubbed me the wrong way. I don’t hate her or anything, she’s actually a character I like quite a bit, but it’s also pretty easy for me to put her in a bad light.

                “Don’t climb up there!!  Do you think you’re still five or something?  You’re seventeen, for God’s sakes!”

 

                “Gokudera-shi, don’t yell so much; you might burst a blood vessel.  I'm not gonna topple the tree, and _someone’s_ gotta put up the star.  _You’d_ probably end up blowing everything up.”

 

                “What did you say?!”

 

                “You did it last year.”

 

                “ _You_ blasted me with one of your damn cannons!”

 

                “VOOOIII!!  Would you both shut up?!  And get off my tree!”

 

                “It’s not _your_ tree, you damn shark bastard!”

 

                “I’m the one who cut it down, you shitty octopus trash!!  _After_ Sasagawa punted the last one _out the fucking porch door_!!  That makes this _my tree_!”

 

                “Ever heard of sharing is caring, Squalo-nii?  We’re taught that at school, back in kindergarten.”

 

                “VOOOII!!  I'M AN ASSASSIN; I DON’T EVEN SHARE THE BLOOD OF MY ENEMIES, YOU COW TRASH!!  AND DON’T ADD THAT RIDICULOUS SUFFIX TO MY NAME!!”

 

                “Squalo-nii!  Squalo-nii!”

 

                “I’M GONNA KILL YOU!!”

 

                “Goddamnit, you just chopped off a piece of the tree, you homicidal shark!  And put that taser _down_ , you stupid cow!”

 

                “Then _you_ put away your explosives, Gokudera-shi!  What do you think I am, blind?!”

 

                Tsuna heaved a sigh as he shut the living room door behind him.  He had wanted to see how the tree decorations were coming along but after walking into a situation like that, there was no way he was sticking around to watch the fallout.  Hayato had his sympathies but, as the old saying went, better you than me, especially when dealing with bloodthirsty Mafioso.

 

                So instead of contending with that mess (he sent up a word of thanks that it was only Squalo, Hayato, and Lambo arguing between themselves for now while the others were still scattered throughout the rest of the mansion), Tsuna strode down one flight of stairs and slipped out the front entrance.  Half a second later, one of his employees had magically materialized at his side, worried frown already pinching his brow.

 

                “Boss, I hope you are not thinking of sneaking out again?”  The man asked pointedly.

 

                Tsuna rolled his eyes but shook his head.  Now that he was boss, it was all but mandatory for him to have at least one subordinate with him when he left the mansion, preferably a Guardian but one of the chauffeurs or butlers would do considering that they were also fully-trained bodyguards after Kyouya had been through with them.

 

                Still, that hadn't stopped Tsuna from sneaking out on occasion, and while he always managed it without getting caught _during_ the initial sneaking out, someone – mostly Reborn – was always ready to chew him out when Tsuna either came home of his own accord or someone was sent out to hunt him down.

 

                “I need a lift to the airport, Leo,” Tsuna said now as he descended the front steps.  “Skull’s coming back today and I told him I’d pick him up.”

 

                Leo bowed, looking absurdly relieved that Tsuna wasn't going to kick up a fuss about having someone accompany him.  Tsuna secretly sulked.  He wasn't _that_ bad.  “I will have one of the limos brought around, Decimo.”

 

                Five minutes later, with Alfonso – Tsuna’s main chauffeur – behind the wheel and Tsuna seated comfortably in the back, they were zooming down the street towards the nearest airport.

 

                “Alfonso,” Tsuna called out absently as he watched the scenery speed by outside.  “Make a detour to Dolce Vita along the way, would you?”

 

                “Yes, sir,” His chauffeur replied agreeably, taking a left turn smoothly.  “A hot drink for Signore Skull?”

 

                Tsuna quirked a smile.  His employees knew him far too well.  “Yes.  It’s a cold winter this year, and Skull’s returning from Australia.  I figure he’d appreciate something warm.”

 

                “Of course, sir,” Alonso flashed a sly smirk in the rear-view mirror.  “And since you've brought it up, I’d really appreciate one too.”

 

                Tsuna huffed a laugh, settling further into his seat as they pulled up outside his favourite café.  “Two coffees and a caffé macchiato it is, but I’ll only cough up the money if you go and buy them.”

 

                Alfonso’s smirk widened as Tsuna passed him one of his credit cards.  “Yes sir, I’ll be right back.”

 

                The chauffeur paused halfway out of the car, all traces of playfulness disappearing momentarily as he frowned sternly at Tsuna.  “And sir, please do not leave the car.  I’ll have eyes on you at all times, so stay alert for any trouble.”

 

                Tsuna heaved a sigh.  “Understood, Alfonso.  Remind me again which of us is the boss here?”

 

                Alfonso grinned once more, cheerful and utterly unrepentant.  “You are, of course, which is why we mustn’t let anything happen to you.  Besides, if you get abducted or blown up or who knows what else, I’ll lose my job, and I do love my paycheques these days.  You give very generous raises, Boss, and I'm expecting a Christmas bonus.”

 

                Tsuna snorted, waving a hand.  “Get going, Al, before I fire you.”

                Alfonso saluted as he stepped fully out of the car, and then sketched a more proper bow before heading for the café at a jog, head ducked against the snow swirling down from the grey skies above.

 

                Tsuna watched him go with fond exasperation.  Alfonso was one of the few subordinates in Vongola outside of Tsuna’s inner circle who actually had a more comfortable relationship with him than the typical polite distance.  It was rather refreshing, and while Tsuna liked to act annoyed on occasion, he wouldn't have it any other way.  Besides, for all of Alfonso’s sass, the man was also fanatically protective of Tsuna.  The chauffeur had thrown himself in front of more than one bullet for him before even when Tsuna had probably been able to take care of himself at the time.

 

                _“‘Probably’ isn’t ‘definitely’, Boss,”_ Alfonso had always insisted stubbornly whenever Tsuna had gone to ream him out for putting himself in danger on his behalf once again.  _“Besides, protecting you is my_ job. _”_

 

                Needless to say, all of Tsuna’s Guardians loved Alfonso for taking his job so seriously.

 

                With a sigh, Tsuna glanced out the window again, idly tracing the meandering paths of the numerous snowflakes dancing on the winter wind.  Without warning, pressure built in his chest and he quickly raised a hand to muffle a series of coughs.  They had started a few days ago, and because his luck had never been what one would call reliable, Hayato had been there at the time and had freaked when Tsuna hadn't stopped – hadn't been _able_ to stop – even after a good ten seconds.  The Storm Guardian had ranted about Shamal’s wretched ineptitude even as he had flown around the room gathering blankets and cough medicine at top speed.

 

                In the end, Hayato had come to the conclusion that Tsuna had caught a cold what with this year’s winter being even colder than usual, and had promptly whisked Tsuna back to his room for rest, promising him a hot bowl of chicken noodle soup when he woke up.  Tsuna hadn’t exactly objected; he had felt significantly weakened for a moment, and he’d been more tired recently ever since that appointment with Shamal.

 

                Of course, Tsuna knew exactly what was causing it.  He’d heard from Yuni about her mother in that first other-future he and his friends had saved, the one where all the Arcobaleno had eventually died.  Aria had been the first to go quite a while before the non-Tri-ni-set rays had killed the others due to Sky Arcobaleno having shorter lifespans, and Aria had fallen sick towards the end as well.

 

                And now Tsuna was going the same way.

 

                He sighed, coughs ebbing.  At least it wasn’t serious yet.  No fever, nothing beyond the symptoms of the beginning stirs of a measly cold.  He’d even managed to convince Hayato not to haul him in to the medical wing for yet another – futile – checkup, and – miracle of miracles – Reborn wasn’t due back from his mission with Colonello until tomorrow.  Tsuna just had to make sure he didn’t have any more coughing fits around his friends and family.

 

                His gaze flicked down to the Vongola ring on his finger when it flared briefly with Sky Flames before a disembodied voice enquired gently, _:And how long do you plan on hiding your condition, Decimo?:_

 

                Tsuna glanced to the side as a wreath of flames whooshed into existence, dispersing to reveal Giotto in all his regal glory.

 

                “For as long as I can, Primo,” Tsuna replied simply, something inside him relaxing at the mere presence of his ancestor.

 

Over the years, the running of Vongola had been left up to Tsuna and his Guardians but the First Generation would drop in from time to time like grandparents come to pay their children a visit.  To this day, G still drove Hayato around the bend, while Takeshi and Ugetsu got along famously.  Lambo and Lampo were like two children fighting over food, Ryouhei and Knuckle couldn't go one conversation without trying to out-extreme the other, Alaude was one of the few people that Kyouya tolerated for any length of time, and the less said about Daemon and Mukuro the better, especially whenever Nagi was dragged into their arguments.

 

And Tsuna and Giotto’s relationship was more a mix of father-and-son and brother-and-brother than anything else.  The Primo never treated Tsuna like he was a mere child despite their age difference, always ready to offer advice but never in a way that might usurp Tsuna’s authority, and Tsuna himself was always happy to see Giotto.

 

                At the moment though, Giotto just looked bleak, and for a long moment, the blond stared unblinkingly out the window at the falling snow.

 

                “You’re my favourite, you know,” Was the first thing Giotto said when he finally spoke, still gazing outside where the world drifted by without a care.  “Out of all the Vongola bosses after me, out of all my descendants and distant relatives, you are my favourite.”

 

                Rare though it was nowadays, Tsuna still felt his face redden with embarrassed pleasure.  He had always held Giotto in high esteem, and it was nice to know that his ancestor seemed to think just as highly of him in return.

 

                “I just try my best,” Tsuna admitted with a modest shrug, running a hand through his hair.  “I’d never have gotten anywhere without my friends and Reborn.  I'm not much by myself.”

 

                “On the contrary,” Giotto countered, turning to look at Tsuna at last.  “True, you needed quite a few firm shoves forward, especially at the beginning, but the charisma you hold within you, the ability to secure the loyalty of those around you without resorting to force or fear, your conviction and resolve to stand by what you believe in – that is all you.”  He paused, and a rueful smile tilted his lips.  “In this, you have even bested me.”

 

                When Tsuna made to protest, the Primo simply shook his head adamantly.  “No, this is truth, and you and I both know it.  After all, Daemon’s resolve would not yield to mine, and he left me – left the Family we first created – and I acknowledge that that _is_ a betrayal, for all that everything is forgiven on my end.  But you, your more... difficult Mist Guardian, when it came down to it, whenever you needed him, he has never once gone through with any of his threats to betray you despite the fact that he was your enemy when you two first met.  It does not take eyes to see that you are the only one he will ever choose to follow.  Same with your Cloud, and your Varia leader, and all the allies you have made who have attempted to kill you at one point or another once upon a time.”

 

                Giotto’s smile widened with affectionate pride.  “You are amazing, Tsunayoshi.”

 

                Tsuna cleared his throat, ears burning, and he knew that Reborn would probably be shooting at him for letting his emotions slip like this, but hey, it was Giotto.  The man was his partner-in-crime when it came to dodging Reborn’s insanity.

 

                “You're pretty amazing yourself,” Tsuna huffed, glancing sidelong at Giotto.  “It must've been tough building Vongola from scratch.  I'm just- You're a bit of a role model for me, and I agree, one hundred percent, with what you were working towards back in your day.  I just want to lead Vongola back to that, that’s all.”

 

                To his surprise, Giotto’s smile faded at that.  “...You can’t do that if you are dead, Tsuna.”

 

                If ever there was a more effective mood killer, this one just trumped it by a mile.

 

                Tsuna sighed and leaned back against the headrest.  “It isn’t as if I _want_ to die, Giotto-san, but what other choice do I have?  I don’t regret the decision I made four years ago; I would never willingly put Reborn and the others through being Arcobaleno _again_ just when they've really started enjoying their lives.  And _Yuni_ ; she’s just a girl in this time, Giotto-san.  She can’t even see into the future anymore, and she’s got her mother and a father in Gamma; she’s happy.  I’d be worse than trash if I pushed the Curse onto a mere child, and the others... it wouldn't be fair to them.”

 

                “And is it fair to you?”  Giotto asked pointedly, orange eyes studying Tsuna intently.

 

                Tsuna’s mouth twisted into a bitter smile before he managed to smooth out his expression.  “World’s not fair; we both know that.  Loved ones die too early, madmen rise to power, and the universe doesn't care.”

 

He paused, glancing out the window where Alfonso was returning with a tray of hot drinks, shoulders hunched against the cold but grinning nonetheless when Tsuna caught his eye.

 

“But I can say one thing,” Tsuna finished resolutely, glancing once more at the sombre-looking Giotto.  “Better me than any of the people I care about.  At least the universe can give me that one.”

 

**{2}**

 

                “Tsuna!”  Skull greeted, waving enthusiastically and ignoring how crazy it probably made him look.  “Over here!”

 

                The man in question swept up, already grinning with genuine delight, and even though Skull had long since gotten used to the fact that Vongola Decimo just didn't act like your standard boss, he still felt a spark of surprise when Tsuna wrapped him in a welcome-home hug.

 

                Still, Skull returned it with interest, because frankly, even at this age, Tsuna was never going to be a particularly tall or heavyset guy, and Skull could literally lift the man off his feet (when Tsuna allowed it of course; short and on the slender side he may be but the boss was still pure muscle).  The brunet was still an inch shorter than Skull if one didn't count that ridiculous hair.

 

                “Welcome home, Skull!”  Tsuna replied when they pulled apart, beaming at him, and before Skull could protest, the brunet had picked up one of his luggage bags and begun ushering him in the direction of the exit.  “How was the competition?”

 

                Skull smirked, his helmet under one arm and his other suitcase in his free hand.  “I won, of course!  I’m the great Skull!  No one can beat me when it comes to stunts!  I pulled off a jump through ten hoops of fire!  That’s four more than the guy who came in second; what a wimp!  But the crowd loved me of course, and I...”

 

                As he rambled on, regaling Tsuna with every last detail of his latest motorcycle stunt, Skull fell into the regular habit of side-eyeing his boss as he talked.  Of course, the brunet was paying attention, sticking in a question now and then that Skull was more than happy to answer.

 

                He honestly wasn't sure how he had gotten so lucky.

 

                After the Arcobaleno Curse had broken, he had been all set to return to the Carcassa Famiglia and continue working for them.  He hadn't particularly _liked_ working for them (in fact, most of the time, he had hated it) but it wasn't as if any other Famiglia would've taken him in.  Skull hadn't been a hitman.  He hadn't been a Mafioso or an assassin or anything of the sort.  Hell, he hadn't even been a criminal.  He had been a stuntman first and foremost, a legal, exciting job with decent pay, but then the Curse had been dumped on him, and it wasn't as if he could _continue_ being a stuntman as a baby.  Reborn could pull off Disguises 101; Skull hadn't had the first clue how to go about pretending he was much older than he’d looked.

 

                And being in the spotlight wasn't all that great an idea for an Arcobaleno anyway, not if one didn't know the ins and outs of the mafia and how to survive in it, so Skull had had to learn how to kick ass, and he’d had to learn fast.  Lucky for him, or maybe not so lucky, Reborn, Colonello, and Lal had all been disgusted enough with his lack of fighting prowess that they’d inadvertently beaten some moves into him.  Still, in terms of strength, no matter how much he had boasted, he definitely hadn't been on par with the other Arcobaleno, not even Verde.  At least Verde had had his brains and gadgets and whatnot, and you messed with _Luce_ or any of the other Sky Arcobaleno at your own peril.  You were guaranteed death if you aimed for them.  Nobody touched the Sky Boss unless they were prepared to die.  That other Byakuran in the future had been a prime example; after forcing Yuni to pretty much commit suicide, someone as peace-loving as Tsuna had eviscerated him.

 

                Still, Skull had just been the Cloud Arcobaleno, and while he was something of an acrobat and he knew how to strategize his way around an obstacle course, it wasn't as if Famiglias had been lining up at the door offering him a place with them like they’d done with Reborn and Lal and Colonello and Viper and even Verde, and he hadn't been a well-known assassin like Fong, or a boss like Luce.

 

                And to top it all off, his money from previous competitions wouldn't have been able to tide him over forever so he’d had to grab on to anything he could work with, freelance missions for small-time Famiglias, and he’d been so _glad_ when the Carcassa had finally offered him a place with them.

 

                How could he have known that they dealt so heavily in drug trafficking and slave trade?  It wasn't as if he had worthwhile contacts like the others.  But it had been a steady line of work, and a steady line of work meant a steady line of income, so he’d stuck with it no matter how despicable he had found them.

 

His pride had prevented him from asking the other Arcobaleno for assistance.  Reborn would've laughed himself to death before lifting a finger to help him, Colonello would've done the same, and while Lal might’ve been a little sympathetic, she would've just told him to suck it up and figure out a way to get by.  She was tough like that.  Verde... well, Skull probably would've had to trade in his heart or kneecaps or something in return for a loan, if he’d been able to _find_ the scientist in the first place, so that had been a no-go, Viper would've lambasted him with a debt that Skull would've spent the rest of his life repaying, and while Fong and Luce would've most likely been more than willing to give him some money for essentials, even Skull had had to draw the line with them.  They were just... too nice, and he’d felt guilty for even thinking about it.

 

But after the Curse had been broken and they had all been free, Skull had still needed to wait for his body to grow up, so he’d planned on trotting off back to the Carcassa (they’d certainly not been around during the Representative Battle; Skull had known better than to waste time asking them to fight for him) to earn his keep for at least a few more years.

 

But then Tsuna had stepped in, much less doe-eyed and idiotically spineless (and yeah, okay, that might be a bit hypocritical of him to say) than the very first time Skull had met him but still essentially _Tsuna_ , and the brunet had asked him to _stay_.

 

Or rather, he’d asked Skull if he _wanted_ to stay, that he’d be welcome to stick with them for as long as he wanted, and since Tsuna had finally resigned himself to becoming Vongola Decimo, Skull would, if he wanted, eventually have a place with the Famiglia as well, whether or not he wanted to continue working as a Mafioso.

 

Now Skull had been under no delusions; he had known he hadn't exactly been particularly friendly towards the brunet and his friends at any point over the duration of their acquaintance, so the offer had come as a definite surprise.

 

 _“You’re kind of already Family though, you know?”_   Tsuna had confessed nervously.  The brunet had even had the decency to corner Skull for the conversation _without_ Reborn around.

 

Of course, Skull had puffed and bluffed his way through another rant of how awesome he was, that he didn't work for just anyone, and a million other inane things, but Tsuna had just smiled awkwardly and sweatdropped his way through it all, and even after Skull had finished his trivial spiel, the offer had still been on the table.

 

So Skull had taken it, because damn it, he’d seen how the unofficial new generation of Vongola operated under Sawada Tsunayoshi, how everyone got along despite all the crazy fights they got into (with enemies _and_ each other), and he’d wanted that.  The Carcassa had never meant anything to him besides a means to an end, and he didn't have any other family or even friends to speak of.  A couple of genuine allies would've been better than nothing.

 

To his everlasting shock though, he had fitted in quite easily.  Tsuna’s Guardians had taken it in stride, not batting an eye when Skull had started popping up around Namimori often enough that everyone knew that he was basically living there.  Reborn had nailed him with a hammer a few times but that was normal, and no matter how much the hitman disliked him, Skull knew that Reborn would never _actually_ cause him any permanent harm.

 

And here he was, almost a decade later, completely freed from the Arcobaleno Curse, happily out of the mafia life, a rising star in the stunt-world once again, and, as promised, a place in Vongola despite his technically civilian status.  If Tsuna asked of it (which he never would), Skull would even be willing to do a few jobs for him on the side.  He had been forced into the mafia life but he had still been a borderline decent Mafioso (he was sure that was an oxymoron of some sort) by the end of it all.

 

And to think, it had all started with that wimpy little brown-haired teenager that Skull – at first – hadn't seen why Reborn had been wasting so much time and energy on (besides being requested to do so by the Nono), and said kid had grown to the point where he hadn't known how to take ‘let the current Arcobaleno wither away and allow a new batch to take their place; that’s the way the Curse goes’ for an answer.  Apparently, as Skull had overheard in a conversation between Reborn and Aria, Tsuna had _yelled_ at the world’s greatest hitman.  Not just complained or screeched at the hitman like the people Reborn trained/tortured/generally associated with usually did on a daily basis but had honest-to-god raged at one of the most skilled killers this side of the universe, and had not only lived to tell – or not tell – the tale but had also _won_ the argument.

 

Now that took some serious balls.  Nobody _won_ against Reborn.

 

But then, if anyone could, it would be Tsuna.

 

As they reached the car where Alfonso was waiting, looking subtly relieved that nothing dire had happened in the time it had taken for Tsuna to walk to and from the airport, Skull once again examined his boss out of the corner of his eye.

 

He was by no means the most observant person in the world, but he _had_ known Reborn for an unfortunately lengthy amount of time by now, and he’d eat his own helmet if there was nothing more than platonic feelings on the hitman’s end for their beloved Decimo.  Tsuna on the other hand was debatable; for all that the brunet typically wore his heart on his sleeve, Reborn had trained him a little _too_ well in Skull’s opinion, and Tsuna had become pretty adept at hiding what he didn't want anyone else to see without _seeming_ like he was hiding anything in the first place, especially after that whole Gino fiasco.

 

Still, what Skull didn't understand was why Reborn hadn't made a move yet.   Before – and after, come to think of it – they had become Arcobaleno, he’d seen the hitman flirt with just about every female with a pulse, even Luce who had been sort of married _and_ with child, so it didn't make any sense to him that Reborn hadn't at least tried to hit on Tsuna once or twice.  After all, what Reborn wanted, Reborn got.  Maybe it was different for guys?  Skull wouldn't know; he was straight, and while he’d thought Reborn had always preferred women, the hitman didn't strike him as someone who’d care much about that sort of thing.  Maybe Reborn had some elaborate long-term scheme in mind; Skull wouldn't put it past him.

 

However, there would be a lot of angry people out for Reborn’s blood if the hitman ever broke Tsuna’s heart.

 

And Skull would be one of them even though he was more likely to get beaten up than land a single blow on Reborn.  But he owed Tsuna, all the former Arcobaleno did.  Without the Decimo, they wouldn't have stood a chance against Bermuda.  Hell, _Reborn_ – that asshole – wouldn't have even put up a fight.

 

                “Caffé Macchiato?”  Tsuna interrupted his internal musings with a steaming cup of coffee, and Skull grinned gratefully as he accepted it.

 

                “Thanks!”  He took a gulp, nearly scalded his tongue, and sighed happily as the beverage of the gods warmed him inside-out.  As he limo pulled away from the curb and headed back out into traffic, he settled back into the comfortable seats, content to stay quiet for now.  That was the problem with different time zones; he was always jetlagged when he came home, and he never got used to it so the need for sleep sometimes stopped his chatter for a while.  Plus he’d gotten better with not running his mouth all the time ever since he had been released from his baby form.

 

                Still, he was a talkative person by nature.

 

                “Did the Varia arrive yet?”  Skull asked, making a face as he wondered how much Viper would manage to charge him before the New Year.  It was always like that; hardly anyone ever left without owing the former Mist Arcobaleno _some_ money after an encounter with Viper.  Skull still owed that damn miser ten Euros because he had let that bastard hold a door open for him several months back.  Knowing Viper, a late fee had probably been added to the sum because Skull still hadn't paid yet.

 

                “Mm-hm,” Tsuna nodded with a wry smile.  “In the span of three days, we’ve already had to replace the Christmas tree because Onii-san threw the first one out the living room porch doors when he was trying to prove to Lussuria that he had the most extreme throwing arm.  Squalo, in a fit of Christmas spirit, went out and chopped down another tree for us, and he is in the process of threatening everyone away from it ’cause it’s now apparently _his_ tree.”

 

                Skull snorted with laughter.  He’d never get tired of Vongola’s crazy antics, especially since he was part of them.

 

                “Is that bastard Reborn home?”  He asked next, as casually as he could.

 

                Tsuna shook his head.  “He and Colonello should be wrapping up their mission now; they'll be back tomorrow.”

 

                An unbidden smile made its way onto the brunet’s face, and Skull eyed it gleefully.  Tsuna was obviously glad that his former tutor would be returning soon; maybe that meant something more.

 

                Truthfully, he hoped those two _did_ start something sooner or later; they were good for each other.  Reborn wasn't as violence-prone nowadays (not that that was saying much; the hitman still possessed a sadistic streak comparable to the length of Russia), and even the other former Arcobaleno had placed bets on how much longer it would take for Reborn to get his act together and at least ask – drag/bribe/blackmail – Tsuna out on a date.  Skull had big money riding on the hitman manipulating the brunet into stumbling under the mistletoe with him this Christmas.  That one was a classic, and Reborn was nothing if not traditional when it came to romance.  He’d seen everything from red roses to candlelit dinners when it came to Reborn and his dates, and somehow, no matter how cliché, the bastard always made it work.

 

                On the other hand, Colonello had bet that Reborn wouldn't do anything until New Year’s, Verde had proclaimed Reborn to be too much of a chicken to make a move (Skull figured that was just the scientist’s biased opinion, not an honest one; the man was so going to lose), Lal had said that Reborn _better_ be dating Tsuna by Valentine’s or she’d _force_ him into it at gunpoint (she didn't like losing, money or otherwise; big surprise), Aria had laughed and said that she would cheer Tsuna on, proposing that the Decimo would make the first move, Fong had refused to bet (though he had been no less enthusiastic when they had all been speculating over Reborn’s potential love interest), and Viper had agreed to be the bookmaker.

 

                (Yes, they were all big gossips and gamblers, especially when it came to something as juicy as this.)

 

                “Hey, Tsuna,” Skull spoke up again slyly.  Maybe he could fish for some information right now.  “Haru-chan and Gokudera are getting married soon, right?”

 

                “Yup,” Tsuna’s face lit up with the confirmation.  “They’re just holding off for a spring wedding.  Hayato’s insisting on having two best men though; me and Takeshi.  I think Takeshi almost fainted when Hayato stormed up to him and stuck in the request between about two dozen insults.  He spent the entire week after that following Hayato around with a grin and proclaiming them to be brothers in all but blood.  Hayato looked ready to commit murder by day three.”

 

                “I can’t believe it took until the third day for that,” Skull remarked with a snicker.  Those two Guardians fought like cats and dogs (hence, their box animals) but they were an excellent team in the field, and they cared about each other a lot more than they (mostly Gokudera) let on.

 

                “What about you then?”  Skull – skillfully, if he did say so himself – brought the conversation around to Tsuna.  “Any plans in the future for at least a lover?  I mean you've still got around a decade or so before people start wondering if you're gonna produce any heirs but...”

 

                He trailed off suggestively, trading a smirk with Alfonso who caught his eye in the rear-view mirror with a knowing look on his face.

 

                “Mm...” Tsuna turned to him, a shrewd glint in his eyes, and Skull lamented over the existence of the Vongola intuition.  It just wasn't fair.  “No, no real plans on that front.”

 

                “No woman’s caught your eye?”  Skull persisted determinedly.  “Or _man_ , maybe?”

 

                Amusement and a glimmer of something else that Skull couldn't quite place entered Tsuna’s expression even as the brunet shook his head.  “No, Skull.  No one.”

 

                Drat.  If Tsuna didn't want to say, nothing and no one would be able to pry it from him.

 

               Skull sulked and took another gulp of coffee.  Ah well; he’d just have to bank on Reborn getting his ass in gear then.

 

**{2}**

 

                “Mammon, do you have a few minutes?”

 

                Mammon glanced up from the ledger he was going through, feeling a twinge of annoyance at being interrupted from balancing the Varia budget and making sure that stupid brat-prince hadn't been fooling around with it just to give Mammon more work to do, but at least the person who was interrupting him didn't usually seek him out on purpose so whatever the issue was must be important.

 

                “I can spare five,” Mammon sighed, pushing aside his work.  He aborted the instinctive impulse to pull up his hood to cover half his face; he was comfortable enough leaving it down when in the company of the inner circle of the Family – had been for a few years now – but the reflex was still there.  “What do you need, Decimo?”

 

                Mammon internally lamented at the way Tsunayoshi offered a sheepish smile as he slipped in, obviously guessing that Mammon had been working on _something_ before his arrival.  Honestly, bosses had the right to demand their subordinates’ time, especially when the latter was being paid for it.  God knew Xanxus certainly couldn't care less whether or not you were being paid; you had just better be available when he required something from you or heads would roll.  But Mammon had long since gotten used to the unorthodox way that Tsunayoshi ran things around here, and he wasn't exactly adverse to it either.

 

                “Sorry, Mammon,” Tsunayoshi apologized as he strolled over, placing a thick file on Mammon’s desk and drawing out several sheets of paper.  “This won’t take long.  I was just wondering about these transactions here.  They’ll all be donations going out to orphanages and hospitals but I thought I’d donate a bit more this year.  Is this a good amount to add to each?  You get touchy if I withdraw too much from the Vongola accounts.”

 

               Mammon discreetly rolled his eyes but he tugged the papers out of the Decimo’s hands and scanned them anyway.  He was only ‘touchy’ about money because the idiot boss had given Mammon the job of managing most of the money exchanging hands between the Vongola and the rest of the world ever since Tsunayoshi had realized what a crappy job – to be fair, those were Mammon’s words; Tsunayoshi had used ‘inadequate’ – the people who were _actually_ handling the money at the time had been doing.  Mammon would never admit it upon pain of death but he had been pretty pleased – and maybe a little flattered – that Tsunayoshi had trusted him with the job in the end.

 

                “Why are you donating more this year anyway?”  Mammon grumbled on principle.  Honestly, _giving away money_ ; he’d never understand these altruistic tendencies that the Decimo had.

 

                He glanced up when there was no immediate answer, fingers tightening momentarily around the bank statements in his hands when he found Tsunayoshi staring out the window at the darkening sky with distant, weary eyes.  For a startled second, Mammon was overwhelmingly, _chillingly_ , reminded of Luce.

 

                “...Tsunayoshi?”  Mammon prodded, not sure why a sudden sense of foreboding had washed over him.

 

                Tsunayoshi blinked, awareness returning as he turned his focus onto Mammon again.  “Yes?  Finished already?”

 

                Mammon eyed him critically for a moment longer before resuming his examination of all the donations.  “Almost.  I just wanted to know why you wish to increase the amount this year.”

 

                He received an odd smile from the boss.  “Let’s just say I'm even more hyped up on Christmas spirit this year.  I'm in a giving mood.”

 

                “You're always in a giving mood,” Mammon accused.  “It’s bad enough working for free; _giving money_ _away_ for free is infinitely worse.  Madness.  Sheer folly.”

 

                Tsunayoshi laughed, brown eyes warm in the face of the desultory insults that Mammon was spewing.  “Hey, I'm giving away toys too.  The money’s for all the institutions we normally donate to but I still have to make my Santa rounds for the orphanages and children’s hospitals in Messina.”

 

                “Don't remind me,” Mammon huffed.  “Whose turn is it to go with you this year?”

 

A teasing grin tilted the Decimo’s lips.  “Well, _you_ could certainly tag along-”

 

“I don’t think so,” Mammon interrupted warningly with an inward shudder.  “It’s definitely not my turn; I clearly recall going last year with Bel and Lussuria, and your Sun and Moon, and Hana.  Those stupid brats wouldn't let go of my cloak the entire time we were there.”

 

“The whole thing was extremely cute," Tsuna enthused laughingly.  “You told very entertaining stories.  You have a way with children.”

 

“I’m an assassin; I kill, not babysit,” Mammon deadpanned rather scathingly as he remembered the torture he had been put through.  Tsunayoshi always insisted on these trips, always so happy to make the children happy, and after having set up this tradition five years ago, most of the kids now recognized the Decimo on sight, and they positively adored him, especially since Tsunayoshi also made a point of dropping by for visits even when it wasn't a holiday.

 

Most of underground Italy adored the latest Vongola boss, arguably the rest of the continent, maybe even the rest of the world as well.  Tsunayoshi – and perhaps Aria and Dino to a lesser extent – was the only Mafioso that Mammon knew who had been able to genuinely charm even the law enforcement without resorting to bribery and or blackmail.

 

“I'm taking Lambo and I-Pin this year, along with Nagi and Mukuro,” Tsunayoshi carried on.  A touch of puzzling wistfulness entered his voice.  “I think I’ll bug Reborn into coming with me as well.  I know he came two years ago but he’s actually pretty good with kids so long as they're not his students or Lambo.”

 

An unbidden smirk made its way onto Mammon’s face.  Reborn was infamous for his ruthless, borderline inhumane training methods when teaching his students – namely Dino and Tsunayoshi – as well as his intolerance for the Decimo’s Lightning Guardian’s antics.  And Skull’s for that matter.  And Verde’s.  And Colonello’s to a degree.

 

“These look fine,” Mammon passed the papers back to Tsunayoshi.  “It’s not like Vongola will be running out of money anytime soon so splurging a little for the orphan brats and whoever else won’t hurt, I suppose.”

 

It was a mark of how far Tsunayoshi had gotten to him – to all of them – that Mammon could actually spit out a sentence like that these days when it came to money.  The Decimo beamed at him, tucking everything back into the folder and gathering up the whole file as he turned for the door.

 

“Thanks, Mammon!”  Tsunayoshi waved, taking care not to drop the thick stack of documents.  “Don’t work too hard; it’s the holidays!  If you’re still here by dinner time, I’m sending Onii-san in to fetch you!”

 

Mammon rolled his eyes again, mouth quirking up into a reluctant smile as Tsunayoshi swept out of the room.  He paused for a speculative moment after the door had closed, mind casting back to the rather strange expression that the Decimo had taken on mere minutes ago.

 

...It was probably nothing.  Mammon knew about the Vongola Hyper Intuition of course; who didn't these days?  Vongola was a lot of things, but in general, their subtlety was comparable to an elephant attempting the salsa in broad daylight.  Even the Varia could barely do subtle when they tried, mostly because none of Mammon’s teammates could keep their tempers in check or resist from doing their own thing for their own amusement.  It was just lucky that everyone was good enough at their jobs that it didn't matter either way.

 

However, over the past... four years or so, Mammon had noticed that Tsunayoshi’s intuition seemed to have grown exceptionally powerful, to the point where it seemed that the ability had gone _beyond_ a simple sixth sense.  Oh, even before he had ascended the Vongola throne, the brunet’s instincts were top-notch, especially after those first two years with Reborn, but there had been several occasions over the past few years where Tsunayoshi had managed to predict something – an assassination, a deal turning sour, a hit going south – happening before it actually happened, and he had been right every single time.  The predictions had helped them quite a bit, preventing what would've resulted in critical injuries or potential wars or catastrophic situations, which was partially why Vongola was so successful, but Mammon had never heard of the intuition being so accurately detailed.  The Nono certainly hadn't had any such ability with _his_ intuition.  Then again, Mammon wasn't exactly an expert on it so perhaps Tsunayoshi had simply inherited the gift in full from the Primo.

 

And it wasn't as if Tsunayoshi went around predicting everything.  The Family still got hurt at times, though each of their own skills ensured that they were rarely ever seriously so.

 

Still...

 

Mammon shook his head and went back to work.  It was probably nothing, even if the look on Tsunayoshi’s face just now had sent a chill crawling down his spine.  Besides, if Reborn hadn't noticed something was off, then there was most likely nothing wrong.

 

**{2}**

 

                Tsuna hurried back to his office, his footsteps swift and sure.  As soon as he had his office door between himself and the rest of the world, he dropped the file of paperwork to the floor with a careless thunk before sinking into the nearest armchair and pressing his palms into his eyes.

 

               For the next minute, he concentrated on breathing, in and out, as steadily as he could as he mulled over his options.

 

                When it came to his foresight due to his Sky Arcobaleno status, Tsuna always had to weigh the pros and cons of the consequences of interfering.  If he wasn't careful, the future could result in an even worse outcome than the one he had seen so while he _always_ intervened when he caught a clear glimpse of one of his Family members _dying_ , he also had to choose whether or not to stay silent and how far he should intercede when the given situation was in a grey area.

 

                Like now for instance.

 

                Images of a small but organized group from a rivalling Famiglia ambushing Dino and his men as they made their way towards the Vongola mansion had danced before his eyes when he had been talking to Mammon.  Luckily for Tsuna, the former Mist Arcobaleno didn't seem to have noticed anything, or if he did, not enough for the illusionist to ask about it.  Mammon was a private person in general, and he afforded the same boundaries he insisted on to most of the people he associated with.  He wasn't the type to stick his nose into other people’s business unless it was for a job.

 

                Tsuna leaned back and pinched the bridge of his nose.  As far as he had been able to glean, Dino would come out of the ambush unscathed but two of his men would end up in temporary comas, and Romario – while he would live – would get anything from a broken arm to a punctured lung in the battle.

 

While no one would die (except the attacking Mafioso) and Tsuna would therefore normally stay out of a situation like this, he also couldn't sense any harm in giving Dino a heads-up.  The Bronco was heading to the mansion right now, and it _was_ Christmas.  Tsuna didn't want his surrogate brother to spend the holidays worrying himself to death over two of his men.

 

Mind made up, Tsuna fished his cell phone out of his pocket and quickly speed-dialled the older blond.  He frowned absently as he waited for the call to get through, rubbing his forehead with his free hand.  How Yuni had managed at such a young age once upon a time was a mystery to him; glimpses of the future – of potential futures – were sometimes followed by headaches, increasingly regular ever since he had seen his own death.

 

_“Hey, little brother!  Couldn't wait to talk to me?  I’m only about half an hour away now.”_

 

Tsuna smiled despite himself.  “Under any other circumstances, I would've waited, but I just got a tip that there’s an ambush waiting for you.  They’ll be intercepting you when you get off the freeway so either go around or be prepared for it.  They've wired bombs into the sewer system of the street you’ll be turning onto right after the highway ends, and there’ll be at least six snipers on the rooftops, three on either side.  Do you want me to send you backup?”

 

A beat of stunned silence followed before the sound of furious whispers and muffled orders being exchanged snaked down the line.  Tsuna waited patiently for another ten seconds before Dino came back on, the squeal of tires taking a sharp turn spiking in the background.

 

_“I don’t know how you do it, Tsuna; one of these days, I'm gonna steal your sources from you because I gotta say – they're a hundred times better than mine.  This is the first I've heard of any ambush.  Do you have a name for our assailants?”_

 

Tsuna chuckled, voluntarily allowing his prescience to take over for a moment.  It didn't always work but he was much more adept with the ability now than he had been four years ago, and on occasion, he could deliberately peek into the future without waiting for it to get the jump on him.

 

“It’s the Sacco Famiglia,” Tsuna revealed, catching a fleeting look of a familiar tattoo on one of the Mafioso’s neck.  The Sacco had been a minor thorn in Vongola’s side since the days of the Ottavo.  Just six months ago, they’d managed to pick off five of Dino’s men and three of Tsuna’s own.  “Looks like they want to give you an early Christmas present.”

 

On the other end of the line, Dino chuckled, dark promise entering his voice.  _“Well then, I better return the favour.  Only polite after all.  Negative on the backup, Tsuna; I’ll handle it myself.  Call you when it’s over.”_

“Got it,” Tsuna acknowledged.  “Stay safe.”

 

_“Will do.”_

 

Hanging up, he stretched the tension out of his shoulders before rising to his feet once more.  As long as Dino was expecting the assault, the Sacco shouldn't pose any problems for the Bronco.  And now that that was sorted, Tsuna could get back to work.

 

Of course, some aspirin first wouldn't hurt.

 

**{2}**

 

                _The wind whistled around the lonely headstone._

_The caw of a crow in the distance._

_The trees swaying gently in the breeze as it shadowed the marked grave that held no body._

_Upon the tombstone, a series of words read in beautiful cursive gold,_

_Here Lies_

_Sawada Tsunayoshi_

_Vongola Decimo_

_10/14/2004 -_

_Much Beloved, Much Mourned_

_Per Sempre Il Nostro Cielo Eterno_

 

                _The place on the cold black stone where the death date should be was blank.  There were no weeds around the grave, the entire clearing clean and meticulously tended to.  But there was a heavy sorrow lingering in the air even when there wasn't a single soul about, a sombre hush that refused to leave, telling the tale of anguished tears and heart-stopping grief, of those who mourned the passing of a man who would walk the earth no more, of friends and family who would never recover from the crippling blow dealt to them by the death of a greatly cherished friendsonbosslove._

                In the privacy of his office, Tsuna stirred but did not wake, features pale, breathing hitched, and brow creased with heartbroken distress as two tears unknowingly trickled from behind flickering eyelids.

 

                _“Weep,” The wind sighed with desolate despair.  “Weep, o ill-fated child, for this is the legacy you will leave behind.”_

 

**{2}**

 

                Reborn nodded curtly at one of the butlers manning the front entrance who was bowing and opening the doors, murmuring a “welcome back” as he strode inside the mansion with Colonello stumbling after him, still bleary-eyed from the power nap he had been taking in the limo.  Reborn _hadn't_ taken one because he wasn't an idiot; he knew better than to fall asleep with no one but the driver keeping a lookout even after a job had been completed.

 

                Still, he hated varying time zones.

 

                “I'm goin’ to bed,” Colonello declared, cracking a jaw-breaking yawn with no decorum whatsoever.  “Jeez, it’s only been two weeks and I'm already missing my wife.  Fourteen days with only your ugly mug to look at could kill a man, kora.”

 

                Reborn contemplated the merits of having Leon transform just to put a bullet in the irritating blond, and then decided that it wasn't worth the effort.  Still, that didn't stop him from sweeping Colonello’s legs out from under him, sending the former Rain Arcobaleno crashing to the ground with a yelp.

 

                “If anyone should be complaining, it’s me,” Reborn commented nonchalantly as he headed up a flight of stairs, enjoying the storm of curses coming from behind him.  “Having to put up with your bumbling ineptitude on a mission would make a lesser hitman weep.  It’s a miracle I managed to hijack that truck at the last minute or you would've blown up the entire building with us still inside it.”

 

                “That wasn't my fault, kora!  _You're_ the one who pushed me out of the ventilation shaft in the first place!”  Colonello howled after him but Reborn had already disappeared onto the second-floor landing, chuckling quietly to himself as he automatically stuck to the shadows and headed for Tsuna’s office to drop off their report.

 

                As he turned down one hallway, he eyed the tinsel and garland hung aesthetically on the walls, banisters, and even the light fixtures.  With a smirk, he wondered how many trees the Family had gone through _this_ year before finally managing to hang on to one without it being blown up or cut in half or reduced to a pile of splinters.

 

                He arched an eyebrow when he found Ivan – one of Tsuna’s bodyguards – still lounging outside Tsuna’s office.  The man quickly straightened and sketched a shallow bow when he recognized Reborn.  Reborn was gratified to see that the man had already had his hand on his gun before he had caught sight of Reborn.

 

                “He’s still working?”  Reborn enquired, mostly rhetorically but the bodyguard nodded anyway.

 

                “Si, Signore Reborn,” Ivan inclined his head.  “I believe Decimo wishes to complete all his paperwork before Christmas Day.”

 

                Reborn hummed an agreement, foregoing knocking and picking the lock instead before slipping inside with a final nod in Ivan’s direction.  He and the others in the Inner Circle were the only ones allowed to enter without permission unless it was an emergency.

 

                Reborn paused as he shut the door behind him, snorting softly when he spotted the familiar mop of brown plastered against the desk.  Stupid Tsuna; if the idiot was that tired, he should’ve gone to bed already.  It was past two in the morning.

 

                As he drew closer, an unbidden fond smile curved his lips at the sight.  Tsuna had been falling asleep on top of his work since Reborn had first met him.  Of course, back then, Reborn had always woken him up with a... _surprise_ of some kind, usually by way of dynamite or bullets or a bucket of ice water (that was more ice than water of course) depending on his mood.  Hell, he still did that these days on occasion.

 

                He halted a foot away.  Twelve years.  It had been a little over twelve years since he had met Tsuna, and so much had happened since then.  Even now, it was hard to believe that one man had managed to accomplish so much.

 

                Almost absently, Reborn reached out and deposited his report on one corner of the desk before continuing on to run a careful hand through the unruly brown locks that Tsuna had never been able to tame, listening to the brunet’s near-inaudible breathing.

 

                Soon, perhaps, he could start pushing.  He hadn't before, mostly because he had partially been in denial (he liked women damn it!) and he had also wanted Tsuna to go out there and actually experience all the things that came with first dates and romance and so on and so forth.  Besides, the brunet had been seventeen-almost-eighteen – still young enough to make Reborn wary of Nana and her frying pan despite being legal – when Reborn’s sadistic black heart had begun doing stupid things in his chest anytime Tsuna had been in the vicinity.  Add to that the fact that Reborn had also not finished growing up from his previous infant state yet, and the waiting game had been born.

 

                And then there had been that bastard Gino, and Reborn really should’ve gone with his first instincts and tossed the worm out on his ass the first time Tsuna had brought the guy home (and shit, didn't that just make him sound like Tsuna’s dad or something?), but Tsuna had looked so happy at the time, and even Reborn’s background checks on Gino hadn't raised any flags, so against his better judgement, he had said nothing to dissuade Tsuna from seeing the Italian.

 

                Of course, that had turned into a disaster, and Reborn had made sure to physically and mentally scar that backstabbing traitor permanently before handing him over to Mukuro so that the Mist Guardian could dump him somewhere rundown and potentially – hopefully – life-threatening.

 

                And then Reborn had waited for his chance.  He hadn't wanted to be a rebound so he had kept his distance and waited for Tsuna to heal, surreptitiously supporting the brunet, staring down anyone else who dared to approach with the hopes of courting the Vongola boss, and dropping subtle hints about his own... _intentions_ (not _feelings_ because that just made him sound like some lovesick girl), all while keeping up with the rain of bullets and ass-kicking to ensure that Tsuna did his paperwork on time and didn't get lazy with his training.

 

                But Reborn had noticed something too.  Tsuna wasn't stupid, and his intuition outstripped that of all the previous bosses, comparable to the Primo himself, so he knew that the brunet couldn't have missed the cues – however understated – that Reborn had been actively leaving.

 

                Yet Tsuna hadn't given any indication of reciprocity.  Of course, it could just be that Tsuna wasn't interested, but Reborn was nothing if not determined when he wanted something, not to mention... well, it wasn't as if he was blind either.  Tsuna might not have outwardly responded in any way but Reborn had seen the lingering looks, the faintest of blushes, and the strangely wistful expressions on his former student’s face.

 

                So it couldn't be that Tsuna wasn't interested.  Right?

 

                Reborn shook the uncharacteristic thought away.  He smirked a little.  Even if Tsuna wasn't interested, Reborn would _make_ the younger man fall for him.  He was the greatest hitman in the world; making Tsuna love him would be as easy as breathing.

 

                Idly, he made to tug some of the scattered paperwork out from under the arm that Tsuna’s head was resting on, planning to wake the boss up and order the moron to bed.  Reborn was all for pulling all-nighters but Tsuna had been working hard lately, and his health hadn't been the best, so a little more sleep would only benefit the brunet.

 

                As he curled one hand around Tsuna’s shoulder to shake the man awake, his other hand skimmed against the brunet’s shirt sleeve as he moved to gather up the various pieces of paper.

 

                He froze.

 

                The sleeve was wet.

 

                Slowly, he ran a finger over the damp patch darkening the white sleeve.  He hadn't noticed before since the lights had been dimmed and he hadn't really been looking for anything in particular.  What...

 

                With an increasingly dark frown, Reborn brushed the brunet’s bangs back so that they no longer fell over his face.  His movements stilled.

 

                There was no mistaking the wet streaks.

 

                His jaw tightened.

 

                Why was Tsuna crying?  And in his sleep no less?

 

                “Tsuna?”  Reborn gave the man a brief shake.  It was rare for the brunet to stay asleep when someone was nearby these days, much less when someone was calling for him.  “Tsuna, wake up.  _Tsuna, wake up, now_.”

 

                With a shudder, Tsuna jolted awake, head jerking up as he took in his surroundings with wild unseeing eyes still glazed with tears and dark with skulking nightmares.  Reborn didn't let go, squeezing the panic-taut line of the brunet’s shoulder as he voiced sharply, “Tsuna, it’s just a dream.  It’s not real.  _Wake up._ ”

 

                Gradually, brown eyes focused on the present again, realization of his surroundings finally registering as reality broke through whatever terrors that had been haunting the brunet.

 

                “Reborn?”  Tsuna murmured weakly, blinking up at him before hastily scrubbing a sleeve over his face.  “Shit, I- You shouldn’t be in here.  How many times have I told you to knock first?”

 

                Reborn studied him for a moment longer before letting go and reaching up for his fedora instead, tilting it down to shadow his eyes.  “Dame-Tsuna, is that the welcome I get after returning from a mission?”

 

                “What?”  Tsuna looked momentarily bewildered as if he had no idea what Reborn was talking about, and then recollection dawned on his face.  “Oh, you- you’re back!  Welcome back!  How was the mission?  Where’s Colonello?  You didn't have to turn in the mission report today, you know.  What time is it anyway?”

 

                Reborn sighed.  “Calm down, Tsuna.  I thought you broke this rambling habit of yours.”  He paused, watching Tsuna pull himself together.  “...What were you dreaming about?”

 

                All at once, the strained smile that Tsuna had managed to nail on his face faltered.  For a long minute, Reborn was certain he was going to have to force it out of the brunet.

 

                “Ne, Reborn,” Tsuna said when he finally spoke, voice soft as his gaze slid up to meet Reborn’s, steady and piercing with a tint of flame in its depths.  “What would you do... if I died?”

 

                Reborn’s blood ran cold.  The brim of his hat was all but crushed under his suddenly white-knuckled grip.

 

                Unthinkable.

 

“I wouldn't know,” He responded gruffly.  “Because it isn’t going to happen.  I’m older so I’ll be gone before you.  Don’t talk nonsense, Dame-Tsuna.”

 

And Tsuna... smiled.  Quiet and knowing and so unexpectedly old that it sent a sliver of ice straight into Reborn’s heart.

 

Because Reborn knew that smile.  He’d personally seen it on Luce all those decades ago, her expressions always hinting at a deeper wisdom borne from seeing things none of the rest of them had ever been able to see.

 

“It could always happen,” Tsuna continued almost gently, clasping his hands together on top of the desk.  “We’re in the mafia after all.  So what would you do?”

 

Reborn narrowed his eyes, forcing himself to let go of his fedora before feigning his usual casual slouch.

 

“I’d make sure ‘Dame-Tsuna’ was included in your epitaph,” Reborn decided acerbically.

 

Tsuna blinked, and then huffed a laugh, the weariness receding once more as his expression brightened.  “I'm pretty sure no one else would let you.”

 

“As if they could stop me,” Reborn scoffed, and then levelled a stern eye on the brunet.  “But it’s not going to happen anyway so the point is redundant-”

 

“Reborn,” Tsuna interrupted, and the hint of steel that signalled the surfacing of Vongola Decimo, the steel that Reborn himself had helped put there, edged the boss’ voice like the finest of katana.  “It _could_ happen, and if it does, I need you to help keep Vongola together.”

 

Reborn scrutinized the brunet closely.  If that didn't sound ominous, he didn't know what did.  “...Naturally.  I have always aided Vongola.”

 

He phrased his words with care, keeping them vague.  He certainly didn't bother telling Tsuna that upon the death of Vongola Decimo, should Reborn still be alive, then there was no way he would continue sticking around.  For one, if Tsuna was dead, then that would mean that Reborn had failed, and Reborn did not tolerate failure, especially from himself.  And for another, well, there would only ever be two people he would acknowledge as his superior – the Sky Arcobaleno bosses out of duty (and that was no longer an issue), and Sawada Tsunayoshi out of personal loyalty.  If Tsuna died, then Reborn would return to being a freelance assassin allied with the Vongola but nothing more.  Reborn had his pride; he wouldn't accept anyone else as his boss.

 

None of that mattered though.  Tsuna was strong – Reborn had made certain of that – and even if some bastard assassin or hitman managed to slip through, they would only manage to kill Tsuna over Reborn’s dead body, and that was _after_ they got through everyone else in the Family.

 

“I’ve named my heir,” Tsuna’s voice cut abruptly into his thoughts.  “Or at least a regent until someone in the Vongola line can be found.  Xanxus has already agreed.”

 

Reborn blinked, and then blinked again.  Outwardly, he remained calm.  Inwardly, he... also remained calm.  Because anything less than calm might just push him to snap, whip out his gun, and start shooting at Tsuna, and he didn't really want to do that at two in the morning, especially after his former student had just woken up from a nightmare bad enough to make him cry.

 

Why?  Why would Tsuna choose an heir now?  Of course, most bosses had some sort of backup in place but Tsuna had become boss only five years ago and had never once mentioned picking someone to succeed him in the event of his death.

 

Reborn was definitely missing something here.

 

“The power won’t all go to Xanxus of course,” Tsuna continued, heedless or ignorant of Reborn’s suspicions.  “It’ll be split between the CEDEF, Hayato, and you as well.  And if that-”

 

“Are you planning on dying?”  Reborn cut him off, voice hard.  Suspicion began to dawn in his mind.  Tsuna wasn't telling him something, and that didn't sit well with him at all.

 

He received a serene, mildly puzzled smile for his efforts.  “Who in the world would plan their own death?”

 

“ _You_ would,” Reborn immediately replied.  “You _have_.”

 

“Technically,” Tsuna corrected.  “I wasn't the one who killed me.  It was a sniper.  Also technically, I wasn't actually dead.  Not for long anyway.  And even more technically, well, that was me from a different parallel world, so, _technically_ , it wasn't me who died.”

 

Reborn’s fingers itched for the trigger of a gun.  “Semantics, Tsuna; you didn't answer my question.”

 

Tsuna rolled his eyes and sighed.  “Of course not, Reborn.”

 

The problem with training a student as well as he had done with Tsuna, Reborn mused, eyeing the Vongola boss in front of him.  Was that once the student had surpassed the teacher, as Tsuna had done quite a while ago in most areas, Reborn could no longer tell when Tsuna chose to turn that training against him.

 

So the infuriating man could be lying to him right this instant, and Reborn wouldn't – _didn't_ – have a clue whether or not Tsuna was telling him the truth.

 

Nevertheless...

 

“You're not telling me something,” Reborn accused flatly.

 

Tsuna shrugged easily, smile still enigmatic.  “I don’t tell you quite a few things, Reborn, just like you don’t tell me quite a few things.  If it’s important, it’ll come to light in its own time.  All secrets do in the end.”

 

Reborn stared.  In that moment, he was certain that Tsuna knew at least one of his, not a particularly closely protected secret (he’d have to be stupid to not know of all the bets flying around the mansion) but arguably his most precious one.

 

He wondered if it was reciprocated.  Tsuna hadn't said anything, and it wasn't in the brunet’s nature to be cruel.

 

He sighed shortly, reaching up to tug at his fedora.  Tsuna was the most stubborn person he knew so if the brunet truly didn't want to say something, not even torture would get it out of him.

 

And all of a sudden, Reborn felt very tired, and not just from his mission.  As much as he liked taunting Colonello, the blond was actually pretty good at what he did, and the two of them made an efficient team despite their (one-sided, Reborn maintained) rivalry.  Right now though, he had had enough of this word play in which nothing at all useful was actually being said.

 

“Alright, Tsuna,” Reborn capitulated.  “I’ll find out whatever you're hiding eventually.  I'm heading to bed.  You should too.”

 

Tsuna gestured at the papers piled on his desk.  “I’ll just finish these first-”

 

Click.

 

“You misunderstood me,” Reborn pointed Leon’s gun form at the brunet at last, trying to ignore the almost magnetic draw of his eyes to the wet patch of Tsuna’s sleeve.  “You're going to bed.  Up and march.”

 

“Reborn!”  Tsuna objected, but it was half-hearted at best.

 

Reborn rolled his eyes and gestured at the door, reaching out to flick off the desk light.  “Come on, you can finish this in the morning, and you know I don’t say that very often so you better take advantage of it while you can.”

 

Tsuna sighed in exasperation but a grudging smile tugged at his lips, the most genuine one that night – or morning, depending on how you looked at it – so Reborn would count that as a win in his favour.

 

“Tsuna,” Reborn spoke up once more as they left the office and headed upstairs, Ivan tailing them at a respectful not-able-to-eavesdrop distance.  “Are you sure there’s nothing you want to tell me?”

 

Tsuna glanced at him, a look that held as much weight as it did wisdom.

 

 _When the hell did Tsuna get this old?_   Reborn wondered with some apprehension.  _How did I miss this?_

 

“Reborn, I need you to promise me something,” Tsuna said quietly, ignoring Reborn’s earlier question as he stopped in his tracks and turned to stare up at him.  His eyes were fully amber now, and Reborn almost expected a flame to appear on the Vongola boss’ forehead.  “I need you to give me your word that you will not let Vongo- no, not Vongola so much as the people in it.  I need you to give me your word that you will look after them if I cannot, that you won’t let them drown in their sorrow if I ever have to... go away.  I... understand now that I'm important to them, that each and every single person in this Family, especially those I'm closest to, have all come to care about me very much in their own way.  But, I hope, that it’s not to the point where I’ll practically be taking them with me if I... if I die.  So I need you to _promise_ me that you’ll drag them out of whatever states they end up in, that you’ll let them grieve but you’ll also kick their asses back in gear if they grieve _too much_.  I'm not worth that much despair.”

 

A frown marred his features.  He paused for a moment, still watching Reborn intently.  “...Can you promise me that, Reborn?”

 

Reborn just stared back, finding it ridiculously hard to breathe for a long second.

 

“Why,” He asked, voice equally soft and holding that silkily dangerous tone he usually reserved for his marks.  “Are you talking like you’re going to die soon?”

 

Tsuna didn't bat an eye.  “I’m a mafia boss, Reborn.  You know better than anyone that the possibility _is_ there, and this time of year makes me think morbid thoughts.  Now what’s your answer, _Reborn_?”

 

This was the Decimo talking now, not just Tsuna, and Reborn closed his eyes, loath to say yes yet knowing he would anyway.

 

(In a corner of his mind, Reborn wanted to know why Tsuna thought he would be any better off and in any better a position to act as emotional support than anybody else in the Family should the brunet actually die.)

 

“I refuse to follow Xanxus,” Reborn stated at last, opening his eyes again.  “I never even followed Timoteo; I just placed his requests above everyone else’s when it came to taking on jobs.  But as long as he does a good job, I’ll stay on board.”

 

“Then...?” Tsuna pressed, the fire in his eyes burning even brighter, almost feverish in their intensity.

 

Reborn sighed, a whisper of an exhale amidst the looming shadows of the mostly empty corridor.  And then, in one smooth motion, he swept off his fedora and bowed, murmuring, “ _Ti do la mia parola, Decimo._ ”

 

Tsuna smiled, relieved and grateful at the same time.

 

Reborn’s heart ached, if only because that single expression felt like the beginning of the end.

 

**{2}**

 

_“You are going to have to tell them eventually, Decimo.”_

 

                Tsuna sighed, leaning back in his armchair as he tucked the phone between his ear and shoulder.  “Yes, I know, but... I think... I think this will be my last Christmas, Talbot.  Honestly, I don’t think I’ll even make it to my next birthday.  I want to enjoy this last holiday with them, and if I tell them now, well, suffice it to say, _no one_ would enjoy it.  Reborn already suspects something.  He caught me off-guard in the middle of the night after waking me up from one of my... visions.”

 

                There was a long silence on the other end.  _“...I am sorry, Tsunayoshi.”_

 

                Tsuna smiled ruefully.  “Why?  You tried your best for these past four years.  You've done more than I would ever ask from you.  Some things... Some things just don’t have solutions.  Just... Thank you for trying, Talbot.”

 

                _“You are too kind.  In my experience, trying without resulting in success is still nothing but a failure.  So... I will continue trying, Decimo, until the day you pass on from your deathbed.”_

 

                Tsuna shifted his gaze to the scenic view outside the window.  Down below, he could just make out Lal and Colonello walking through the gardens, the latter saying something that made his wife laugh.  Lal was starting to get pretty big; their kid would be born sometime in March, early April at the latest, and Tsuna himself had placed a bet that it would be a girl since neither soon-to-be-parent had wanted to know the gender beforehand.

 

                “Thank you, Talbot,” Tsuna replied, rising to his feet and moving over to the porch doors.  “I appreciate it.  I do wish you’d spare some time for yourself though.  You’ll be here for Christmas?”

 

                _“Of course, Decimo, how could I miss out?  I recall you sent your Right-Hand to... escort me to the mansion when I declined the invitation that first year.”_

 

                Tsuna grinned at the memory.  “It’s your own fault.  The invitation was just a formality; you're Family so you’re practically required to attend.  Nobody should be alone for Christmas.”

 

                Talbot just chuckled rather fondly.  _“I understand, Decimo.  I will arrive sometime tomorrow.  Do take care of your health as best you can.”_

 

                “Will do; see you tomorrow.”

 

                Tsuna hung up, an absent smile still playing on his lips.  Christmas was in two days, the mansion was slowly filling up with all his favourite people, and he was determined to make it the best one to date.

 

                After all, he didn't want to die with any regrets.

 

**Please leave a review on your way out.**

**_Per Sempre Il Nostro Cielo Eterno – Forever Our Eternal Sky_ **

**_Ti do la mia parola, Decimo – I give you my word, Tenth_ **


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